


The Other Castellan

by Violet1309



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: BAMF Draco Malfoy, BAMF Luna Lovegood, Battle of Hogwarts, Battle of the Astronomy Tower (Harry Potter), Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Book 1: The Lightning Thief (Percy Jackson), Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Book 2: The Sea of Monsters (Percy Jackson), Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Book 3: The Titan's Curse (Percy Jackson), Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Book 4: The Battle of the Labyrinth (Percy Jackson), Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Book 5: The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson), Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Cedric Diggory Lives, Clear Sighted Cedric Diggory, Demigod Draco Malfoy, Demigod Luna Lovegood, Demigods, Draco Malfoy & Ginny Weasley Friendship, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson Friendship, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Draco Malfoy is a Good Friend, Draco Malfoy-centric, Dumbledore's Army, F/M, Good Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy Friendship, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Hogwarts First Year, Hogwarts Fourth Year, Hogwarts Second Year, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Hogwarts Third Year, Luke Castellan Has a Sibling, Luna Lovegood & Draco Malfoy Friendship, Luna Lovegood is a Good Friend, Out of Character Draco Malfoy, Out of Character Luna Lovegood, POV Draco Malfoy, Rick Riordan Demigod Universe | Riordanverse, Ron Weasley Bashing (unintentional), Seer Draco Malfoy, The Golden Trio Era (Harry Potter), Triwizard Tournament, Yule Ball (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:48:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 49,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27677615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violet1309/pseuds/Violet1309
Summary: Draco Malfoy was hiding.Not from the Gryffindors, not even Voldemort himself.No. He was hiding the truth from everyone.Born in America, being a muggle-born, growing up with his insane mother, the younger brother to Luke Castellan, the best swordsman in the last 300 years, the first demiwizard in his year to attend Hogwarts, Lucas Castellan had a lot on his plate.But he couldn't tell anyone, or else both worlds would be destroyed, and that would be his fault.And he wouldn't want that, would he?Join Lucas(or Draco, if you prefer), as he undergoes his perilous and very much annoying quest to protect 'The Boy Who Lived', otherwise known as Harry Potter.Rights to J.K. Rowling and Rick Riordan.I only own the plot.Also posted on Wattpad.
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass & Draco Malfoy, Daphne Greengrass & Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass & Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy & Fred Weasley & George Weasley, Draco Malfoy & Ginny Weasley, Draco Malfoy & Original Female Character(s), Draco Malfoy & Theodore Nott & Pansy Parkinson, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood & Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood & Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 71
Kudos: 178





	1. Prologue and Chapter One

**Prologue**

When joining the Order of the Phoenix, May Castellan didn't take her life for granted. She knew that time was limited, that she only survived because of her brother. Death wasn't fair. It wouldn't wait until she was ready to go. It would strike without warning, taking loved ones or even herself from the land of the living. She wasn't sure when it would be her time, but she would make sure she dragged that Death Eater down with her. She _would_ avenge Thomas.

Of course, that was before she met Hermes and had Luke.

It was a warm night on August 17th, 1986. She had just gone to an Order meeting. They had been discussing Voldemort's movements. Feeling as if she might never see muggle London again, May went to a muggle pub and had a drink. Mind you, it was a very small pub, but a pub nonetheless. She wanted to remember the taste of the liquor burning down her throat, and the smell of several different types of drinks wafting through the room.

She had only been on her first drink, savouring the familiar room, when the bell on the door behind her tinkled, signifying that someone else had come in. May wondered who it was. It was very late- a little past eleven, and this pub wasn't very well known.

"I'll have Cider, please." A young man in his mid-twenties slid on the seat next to her, and she couldn't help but think that he was very handsome. He had a muscular build, along with unruly light brown hair and a sly grin.

"Hello," May greeted him.

"Hi," he replied casually. "It's a bit late to be drinking, don't you think?"

"I was about to say the same thing," she answered.

He chuckled. "You got me there," he admitted, taking a sip from his glass the bartender passed to him. "So..." he began. "Why are you here so late?"

"Guess I just felt like it," she replied shortly, taking another sip from her glass. It was true, in a sense. She had come to remember muggle London. She could've gone anywhere else, but she chose to go here. Why? Because she felt like it. "You?"

He grinned, giving her the sudden desire to check her pockets. "Just passing by," he told her. "I like to jog around here."

She raised an eyebrow. "This close to midnight?"

He laughed. "I agree with you; it's quite late. But I do love the coolness of summer nights. Especially at this time of day."

"Nothing like a good walk at night to clear your mind," May joked.

He smiled. "Exactly. And I just realized, I haven't asked your name yet."

"May," she replied. "May Castellan."

"May," he repeated. "What a lovely name. You can call me Hermes."

"Like the Greek God," she said.

"Very much like the Greek God," he said, grinning widely. "It was a childhood nickname. I was the prankster of the group and would occasionally pickpocket their stuff and return them for fun."

She nodded. "Seeing you smile, I get the urge to check to see if I haven't lost anything." She finished her drink and pulled out her phone from her pocket, checking the time. "Well, it's getting late and I should go. It was nice meeting you."

Hermes stood up. "I would like to walk you out," he said formally, taking a wad of cash out and placing it on the table. 

She blushed. "There's no need," she said, suddenly shy.

He laughed her off. "Nonsense," he exclaimed. "I find that a gentleman should always walk a girl to the door, whether it's their best friend, acquaintance, co-worker or girlfriend. It's called being polite."

She smiled. "If you insist."

Hermes followed her out of the dingy pub, opening the door for her. He walked out after her.

"Well," she started. "It was nice meeting you."

He nodded. "You too. I dare say we'll be meeting each other again." 

And raising two fingers for a two-fingered salute, he turned around and jogged down the street, leaving May to ponder what he meant.

Only later would she understand, but at the time, she thought she had met a muggle. A very kind and carefree one at that, not knowing that the muggle society might cease to exist very soon. 

She chuckled, and pulling out her wand, she spun on the spot and apparated. Little did she know, that she had just met Hermes, God of Messengers, Travelers, and Thieves. Or that in two years, she would give birth to one Luke Castellan and move to Westport, Connecticut for his safety, where she would meet Hermes once again and would give birth to Lucas Castellan three years later.

**Chapter One: The Quest**

Lucas Castellan dropped down from the top of the lava wall, freefalling for a few seconds, then rolling as he hit the grass to absorb most of the impact. Standing up, he absentmindedly raked his hand through his sweaty blond hair, taking the time to recover from nearly being burnt alive.

He scowled. After being on the run for a whole year, fighting monsters and such, climbing the lava wall should be easy. The desire not to die should've been enough. But _noooo_. After five near-death experiences, he was just about ready to give up.

He walked back towards the lava wall, about to try it again. Surely he could do it at least once. As he took a step forward, an agonizing pain flared in his left foot.

He muttered a few choice words in Ancient Greek as he sat down to inspect the injury.

He pulled off his shoe and sock, to find nothing but a bruise. "What the Hades?" he demanded, as he shoved his sock and shoe back on. "Oh, I just slipped and I get a sprain? What is this?"

"Do you need help?" a female voice asked.

Lucas glanced up in surprise. In front of him was a woman with green eyes and black hair that flowed down to her shoulders. Her face resembled a Greek statue- pale, beautiful, and ageless. She was dressed in white robes decorated with ornate silver designs; runes or alchemy symbols, Lucas supposed.

He knelt. "Lady Hecate," he said. 

She motioned for him to rise. "Oh, you don't need to do that," she said, evidently pleased. "But I have to say, it is nice to be recognized. Olympians get all the attention. Nobody really recognizes us anymore."

"But as the Goddess of the Mist, you're quite important," he countered.

She smiled. "Thank you. Now, I'm going to assume, that you already know that I'm here on business and not out of the kindness of my heart."

"Of course," he agreed. "Though, it could be both?"

"Of course," she replied. "Now, I think the forest will do nicely for a private conversation, away from prying eyes and ears. Brace yourself." She spread her palms and the Mist surrounding her reached out towards him. For a few seconds, he couldn't see anything but white, and he felt like he was being ripped apart and put back together at the same time. Then the white darkened slowly and he saw the familiar backdrop of the trees in the forest.

Lucas leaned on a nearby tree, out of breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hecate appear.

"Sorry about that," she apologized, sounding sincere. "We could've walked, I suppose, but I just thought this was quicker. I didn't realize it would be painful for you."

"It's fine," Lucas replied. "Didn't you say you were here for business?"

"Oh! Right!" she exclaimed. From the inside of her dazzling white robes, she took out a letter about the size of a typical paperback book. The paper was slightly yellowed, and on it was his name written in Ancient Greek.

"Where to start?" she pondered. "Well, as you must know, I am also the Goddess of Magic."

Lucas nodded, wondering where she was going with this.

"It started a few millennia ago, back when mortals believed we Gods existed and would worship us. I had a bit of a problem, and these 4 mortals helped me. They were Godric Gryffindor, the brave, Salazar Slytherin, the cunning, Rowena Ravenclaw, the intelligent and Helga Hufflepuff, the loyal. After they had helped me, I was ever so grateful. I gifted them with the ability to perform magic. But, there was a catch. They could only perform magic through a wand."

"So they were witches and wizards," Lucas concluded.

Hecate beamed. "Exactly! And they were best friends, for they found that teamwork was better than rivalries, and they shared gifts that no other mortal had- magic. They soon discovered that their magic was limited, but that didn't damper their spirits. They sought help from my daughter Circe, and she taught them wandlore, and they made the first four wands in history. But they sought to share their gifts with the other mortals, and so they built a school, where every generation of witches and wizards could learn the art of magic. They opened it up and sought to teach mortals from the age of eleven to seventeen, but they soon found out that the mortals, without magic flowing through their veins, could not perform magic, but Ravenclaw found a solution to their problem. She suggested having affairs with the mortals so that they could pass on their abilities. The others agreed, but Slytherin refused. He believed that they would be tainting their abilities by 'breeding with the mortals', as he called it." Hecate's voice was filled with disdain. "They got into an argument, which turned into an argument about who should be admitted. The school split, having four houses each named after the founders, and the next day Slytherin packed his bags and left, never to be seen again."

"Real cheery," he said sarcastically. "So is the letter like an enrollment letter?"

"Yes," she replied. "Your mother May Castellan was a muggle-born witch, which is their name for someone who can perform magic but comes from a non-magical family." She sighed and shook her head. "Ridiculous. The ability to produce magic is a gene. Sometimes it skips generations." She handed him the letter. "Read it," she urged. "Don't worry, I translated it into Ancient Greek for your sake."

He gingerly took the letter and opened it, trying to read the cursive writing, which despite it being in Ancient Greek, was murder on his eyes. It went something like this:

Mr. L. Castellan  
Cabin #11  
Camp Half-Blood 3.141  
Farm Road  
New York

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Castellan,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.   
Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl no later than July 31st._

_Yours sincerely,_

Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress

Uniform

 _1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
_ _2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
_ _3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
_ _4\. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)  
_ _Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags_

Set Books  
_All students should have a copy of each of the following:  
_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) _By Miranda Goshawk_  
A History of Magic _by Bathilda Bagshot  
_Magical Theory _by Adalbert Waffling  
_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration _by Emeric Switch  
_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _by Phyllida Spore  
_Magical Drafts and Potions _by Arsenius Jigger_  
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _by Newt Scamander_  
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection _by Quentin Trimble_

Other Equipment  
_1 wand  
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
1 set of glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope  
1 set of brass scales  
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad_

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_

"It's not unlike the stories that the mortals make up," he commented after he had finished reading.

"Well, they had to come from somewhere," Hecate replied. "You must know by now that all stories have true parts." 

"Of course," Lucas replied. "Though, I suppose this is like the myths."

"Indeed."

"Lady Hecate?" he asked. "Not to be rude or anything, but I don't think you would've come to Camp Half-Blood to personally deliver this."

Hecate sighed. "You're right," she admitted. "There's a catch."

"So what is it?" He tried to keep his voice polite.

"Well, as I told you, there were four houses, Slytherin among them."

Lucas nodded.

"Well, there was one wizard, Tom Riddle. He was a brilliant and handsome boy. He could've done anything he wanted, but he threw everything away and dabbled in the Dark Arts, just because he was afraid of death." She sniffed. "Ridiculous. Death is death. You can't change that. Eventually, everyone dies, even Gods. We just don't go to the Underworld. Anyway, after he graduated from Hogwarts, he dabbled in the Dark Arts and created a new name for himself. I'll say it once, don't ask me to repeat it. Lord Voldemort. And whatever you do, don't say it. Names have power. 

Well, he succeeded in making himself immortal, causing a lot of problems for Hades. Another wizard, Harry Potter, who would be your age by now, survived the Killing Curse, which is used to kill people quickly and painlessly. Riddle's body was destroyed, but his soul is still out there, and he will want to kill Harry." Hecate paused. "And that's where you will come in," she explained. "If you agree, of course."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're letting me choose?" he asked skeptically.

"Yes," she replied. "I'm also the Goddess of Crossroads. Should you accept, I would give you the ability to use the Mist better, since they can see through the Mist to a certain extent. I would also have to give you another name and identity to make your job easier."

"And what is the name?"

"Draco Malfoy. The Malfoys are an extremely wealthy family, and Lucius Malfoy is a Death Eater, which is the name for Riddle's followers. That way you'll be one of the first to know when Riddle comes back to a corporeal form. I'll make Dumbledore believe that he sent the letter to your cover, not you, and the Malfoys will believe you're their son. However, this path would be dangerous and possibly fatal.

If you chose to go to Hogwarts but not accept the quest," she continued, "you would experience a somewhat normal life. You could become friends with Harry, do anything. However, you would be at risk of being murdered, since Voldemort and his followers think Muggles are beneath them. 

Of course, you could always refuse the quest and refuse to go to Hogwarts. You would stay here in Camp Half-Blood, train, be safe- as safe as a demigod can be. And you could always go back." She paused, taking a deep breath. "Go back, maybe back to May Castellan, and pretend that nothing ever happened. You never ran away, never found you're a demigod, forget that you're a wizard. However you choose, I won't complain. This is your crossroads."

Lucas bit his lip. He knew that most Gods wouldn't give him the option to refuse. Besides, he wanted to prove that he could. Prove that he was well trained enough to complete a quest. He could die, but was his life really more important than the safety of the world? His life was going to be short anyway. Why not make something of it? 

"Sure," he said. "I'll accept the quest."

"Good," she said. "Now, here's a little warning. Luke knows nothing of the Wizarding World, and you are _not_ to tell him. Or anyone for that matter. Not even Chiron knows. Only the Gods and I know, and it must stay that way, at least until Riddle is defeated, lest both worlds are destroyed. I'll tell Chiron that I have you on a long-term quest, but you will be able to come back each summer. I'll organize everything in the Wizarding World, then I'll take you to Diagon Ally to get your stuff."

"Okay," Lucas said, a bit confused. "Got it. Don't tell anyone, you'll take care of the lies, Diagon Ally. Received and entirely understood."

She smiled. "Exactly. I shall see you soon." The Mist thickened around Hecate, and in a flash of white, she disappeared, leaving Lucas to his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This story is something I've been working on for a while, but I was working on it on Wattpad. I don't actually remember how I came up with this, only that I'm really enjoying this. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing this. I usually update on weekends.
> 
> -Violet1309


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Diagon Ally**

Lucas hacked at the metal dummy, dodging every time it swung its sword. For some reason, the Hephaestus Cabin decided it was a magnificent idea to create an automaton dummy that would attack back. Such fun. (Note the sarcasm.)

He rolled to the side as the double-edged sword swung down behind him and stabbed the dummy on the head, deactivating it.

"I get that the purpose was to get used to a moving target," he muttered, "but why does it have to be an automaton?"

Sheathing his knife, he turned and walked out of the arena, when he saw someone running towards him.

"Lucas!"

It was Annabeth. Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena, Goddess of Wisdom. She was a year younger than him and he loved her as a little sister.

"Hey," he greeted her, smiling. "What's up?"

"Chiron wants to see you in the Big House," she explained. "I think Lady Hecate was there too. Something about a quest?"

Lucas smiled. "Alright. I'll be heading over there now." He paused. "Er, try not to die before I come back."

Annabeth snorted. "Of course. I'm not an idiot. That's Cabin five. Try not to die either. What would I do without my surrogate brother?"

He laughed, raising his hand in a mock salute, and ran towards the Big House, passing by the Strawberry Fields as he passed.

When he got there, Chiron and Hecate were on the porch, discussing something. For whatever reason, the legs on Chiron's wheelchair were wearing fishnet stockings and bright red high heels.

He jogged up to them. "Lady Hecate," he addressed her. "Chiron."

Chiron smiled. "Lucas. We're all set then, Lady Hecate?"

"Yes," she replied with a smile. She was wearing a dark, sleeveless gown that seemed to ripple as if the cloth had ink spilling off.

"Um, Chiron?" Lucas asked. "Why are the fake feet, er, like that?"

Chiron sighed. "Probably your cabin's idea of a practical joke. I assume you weren't in on it?"

"We need to go," Hecate interjected, saving Lucas from answering. "We'll be getting there via the Mist," she informed him. "I'm afraid it's in London. using the Mist will be the quickest way." Not unlike a few days ago, she spread her hands and he saw the world fade to white.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucas watched as Hecate pushed the doors of the Leaky Cauldron open, and he followed her inside. Sometime during the teleportation, she had changed into jeans and a white t-shirt that was adorned with ornate silver designs- probably an alternate version of the robes she wore the other day.

"Hello," she greeted the barman. "Tom, was it?"

"Yes," he replied. "Would you like a drink?" he asked reaching for a glass.

"No, thank you," she said politely. "Just passing through."

The barman nodded, seeming to understand her. "Off to buy school supplies?" he questioned.

She smiled. "Precisely."

Hecate led Lucas through the bar and into a small, walled-off courtyard with a few dustbins and weeds.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"Diagon Ally," she replied. "You seem to have forgotten that this is a world of magic."

"Of course, magic," he mumbled to himself. "How could I forget?"

Hecate smiled as she tapped the wall thrice with her finger. "I think you'll like this part," she informed him.

Lucas watched as the brick she tapped quivered and in the middle, a small hole appeared which got bigger and bigger until it was big enough for them to walk through. 

His eyes widened. "Clever," he commented. 

"It is," Hecate agreed. "I do hope you succeed. The Wizarding World has such potential."

They walked through the archway, and he heard the sound of the wall reverting to normal. They followed the winding cobblestone path and saw many shops, all containing magic. There was a stack of cauldrons in front of a shop, with a sign on top of them saying, _Cauldrons- All Sizes- Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver- Self-Stirring- Collapsible_. There were shops selling robes, telescopes, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eel eyes, tall piles of spellbooks, quills and rolls of parchment and potion bottles.

Finally, they stopped in front of a ginormous snowy-white building that towered over all the other shops. It wasn't Olympus big, but still impressive in its own right. Carved on one of the columns was a Latin inscription. _Fortius Quo Fidelius._ Strength through loyalty. Standing beside its large gleaming bronze doors, was a short creature about a head and a half shorter than him.

"That's a goblin," Hecate told him quietly. "They, like all creatures in this world, know of the Gods' existence and like monsters, can detect demigods. However, unlike monsters, they sense your aura and can determine who is your godly parent. Goblins especially. This was built back when the Wizarding World began. They know a demigod when they see one."

The goblin bowed as they entered. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, but this one was silver, with words engraved on them:

 _Enter stranger but take heed  
Of what awaits the sin of greed,  
For those who take, but do not earn,  
_ _Must pay most dearly in their turn,  
_ _So if you seek beneath our floors  
_ _A treasure that was never yours,  
_ _Thief, you have been warned, beware  
_ _Of finding more than treasure there._

"Nearly impossible to rob," Hecate said. "Even you, a child of Hermes would have difficulty with it."

A pair of goblins bowed to them as they entered, and Lucas saw that they were in a vast marble hall. His math wasn't great, but he counted about a hundred goblins sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in long ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales and examining precious gems through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count that were leading off into the hall, and more goblins were leading people around.

"Is this place run by goblins?" Lucas questioned as they headed for the counter.

"Yes," she replied. "Goblins are known for their skill in money and finances, hence why they run Gringotts and even the Wizarding Economy to a certain extent. Morning," she said the last word to a free goblin. "We've come to take some money out of Vault eleven."

The goblin eyed them before nodding. "Alright," he said. He led them out one of many doors leading out of the marble hall, though it was clear what separated this door from the others. It was much larger, nearly twice the size. It had a marble arch like the others, but the double doors were made of Celestial bronze and on the edge, it had Ancient Greek letters written in gold.

There was an immediate difference on the inside. It was a large cavern, with two trees that grew at the front, with branches growing to the side to create an archway for them to walk through. Vines dangled down from the branches, creating a curtain, obscuring their view from the rest of the cavern.

As they brushed past the vines and walked through the archway, it became obvious that there was an overgrown theme going on. At their feet, there was a lush green carpet of grass, and a pure black pegasus was snacking on the grass. There was a small pond over to the left side, and white mist- no _the Mist_ , lingered around, giving the feel of a foggy day. Owls swooped overhead as they moved from the surrounding trees. On the right side, there was a reasonable size ledge that had a medium-sized willow tree. Underneath it, there was a male peacock, flashing its brightly coloured plumage. On the side, there were giant marble pillars laced with gold bracing the cavern ceiling, though Lucas didn't see why it would need them. There were silver tracks that shone like the moon winding ahead of them, with adamantine carts zooming on them, carrying nobody at all.

"It's beautiful," Lucas commented.

Hecate smiled. "Yes, it is, don't you think? We built this during the construction of Gringotts. Athena designed the layout, Hades cleared this space out, Hephaestus designed the mechanics, Demeter perfected the overgrown look, Pan gave the cavern life, Poseidon created that lovely little pond over there, and well, everyone contributed."

"So it only looks like this here?" he asked.

"Well," Hecate said, "These tracks lead down to the Greek Gods' and Goddess' vaults. Only them and their children can open them."

The goblin whistled shrilly as they got to the start of the tracks. A small cart came over to them, and it was only then Lucas realized how bright it was. It shone brightly, so bright in fact, that it looked transparent white and looked like a cross between diamonds and silver.

They clambered onto the cart, and with a gesture from the goblin, the cart shot down the tracks, sucking the air out of Lucas' lungs. He almost blacked out from the lack of air, but when he recovered, he found that they were still shooting down the track, winding up and down, left to right. 

Before long, they stopped at a door with a caduceus drawn on the top in Celestial Bronze. Below it was a rather intricate lock with a pair of winged sandals in the middle.

"A few Roman gods have lingered around, long after the Roman Empire fell," Hecate explained. "See the caduceus? If a symbol of a god was drawn in Celestial Bronze, it means that the god is Greek. If it was drawn in Imperial Gold, or Enchanted Gold as it was called in the Ancient times, it belonged to a Roman God."

"How do we get in?" he asked. 

"Place your hand on the lock," the goblin instructed. "and unlock it. Demigod children of Hermes have Clauditiskinesis, do you not?"

Following the goblin's instructions, he placed his hand on the lock. While it looked complicated on the outside, it was simple. There were rings at different angles, not unlike an Archimedes sphere. All he had to do was align the rings together. It unlocked with a click as he aligned the rings together, and the door swung open silently.

As he entered, with Hecate trailing after him, his jaw dropped. 

There were mountains of little gold coins, heaps of silver ones and mounds of bronze ones- wizarding currency, he assumed. There were hills of golden and silver drachmas and a stack of weapons in one corner. There were a few bottles of Greek Fire, nectar and ambrosia.

Closing his mouth, Lucas turned to Hecate. "Why isn't the goblin with us?" he asked.

"I placed wards not allowing certain people in," she answered. "These vaults only allow people with ichor flowing inside them, even if it's just a little bit."

"Okay," he said. "Which ones do I get?"

"The gold, silver and bronze ones," she said. "The gold ones are the Galleons, the silver ones are Sickles, and then there's the Knuts. Seventeen Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle. Best take a silver weapon, just in case Riddle comes back and you meet the Werewolf Society." She handed him a bag with a silver drawstring.

"Yep," Lucas agreed walking over to fill the bag that Hecate gave him. He scooped the coins into the bag, and when it was full, he pulled the drawstring shut and grabbed a silver pocket-knife, slipping it into his pocket.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

One horrendous cart-ride later, Lucas followed Hecate out of Gringotts, blinking at the harsh light of the sun's rays.

"I'll be leaving," she told him. "Use your letter. Madam Malkin's for robes, Flourish and Blotts for books, an apothecary for potion ingredients- just ask for some basic potion ingredients. Then there's that cauldron shop for your cauldron and scales, Eeylops Owl Emporium if you want an owl, or there's Magical Menagerie if you want something else. And, of course, there's Ollivander's for your wand." She smiled. "Never met anyone better than him at making wands."

"Okay," he replied. "Got it. Anything else I need to know?"

"Yes," she said. "If you see Harry Potter, you are to introduce yourself as Draco Malfoy, and you _have_ to have a British accent when doing this. Now, your cover is a boy who was raised in a pure-blood household but doesn't believe in pure-blood supremacy. You'll be protecting him from his side, and if he decides he hates you, you will go out of your way to follow him and make sure he doesn't die. 

Lastly, to get to Hogwarts, you'll be taking the Hogwarts Express. Just go to Kings Cross Station and run into the barrier between platforms nine and ten. The train leaves at 11 o'clock, on September the first."

"Got it," he replied, nodding. "I'll go get my stuff now."

Hecate made a shooing gesture with her hand and he walked towards _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions_. When he looked back at the entrance of the store, Hecate was already gone.

Lucas looked back at the door of the shop. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door, feeling like a bundle of nerves.

"Hogwarts, dear?" Madam Malkin asked when she saw him.

He nodded, wondering how long this would take. He hoped it wouldn't be long, especially since he had a severe case of ADHD. He had no idea why, but his ADHD was much worse than the average demigod. 

"Most people come here," she continued. "I'll have someone fit you up." She looked over at another witch and motioning her over, she told her to fit him up.

"Follow me," the witch said. 

Lucas followed her into the back of the shop, where the witch stood him on one of the stools gathered there, slipped a long robe over his head and began to pin it to the right length.

After a while, he heard the door swing open, and he glanced over. Standing at the door was a scrawny boy with messy black hair and cracked round glasses in front of a pair of emerald green eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the lightning bolt scar.

Lucas's first thought was that he reminded him of Poseidon. Of course, Poseidon didn't have glasses, and he had sea-green eyes, not emerald green. Oh, and there was also the fact that Poseidon was fit, not scrawny.

He snapped out of his thoughts. Hecate told him to be nice to him, not get lost in his thoughts until he left.

"Hello," he greeted him. "Hogwarts too?" He decided to be oblivious to who he was to not make him uncomfortable.

Harry ducked his head and mumbled a small "Yes." Madam Malkin stood him on the stool beside him and began fitting him up.

"So, what's your name?" he asked casually, making sure that his voice maintained a friendly tone.

"Harry Potter," he replied. It wasn't boastful, but more of a friendly exchange. And he wanted to keep it that way.

He made a polite face of surprise. "You are?" he asked, not in a skeptical way, but an I didn't realize. "I'm Lu-Draco Malfoy, by the way." He scolded himself internally for nearly slipping. "I heard you went to live with muggles. What are they like?"

"Terrible," he replied. "I mean, not all muggles are like that, I just happened to have them as my only living relatives."

Lucas bit his lip in sympathy. "Mmm," he said. "The good people always die first. I'd have a better life if my parents were dead," he continued, sending a mental apology to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. "But no. I have that absolute git as my father." He wasn't lying. Hecate had told him what Lucius and Narcissa were like, and the way they acted rubbed him the wrong way.

Harry perked up. "You live in a magical environment?"

"Yes," he replied, struggling to maintain a British accent. He got the basics, and the less the Mist had to do, the better. 

"Could you explain Hogwarts?" he asked.

"Well," he began in an exaggerated pompous manner. "Hogwarts is a school that teaches magic from the age of eleven to seventeen. It contains-"

"No," Harry interrupted, struggling to keep a straight face. "I meant like what classes it has."

"There's Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, Astronomy, History of Magic, Herbology and Defence Against the Dark Arts," he listed. "These are mandatory classes. Once you pass your third year, you'll have to choose at least two more advanced classes like Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, or Muggle Studies. There are more, but I just can't be bothered to remember them. During our fifth year, our head of house will have a discussion on what job we want after graduation, and what subjects are advised to be able to pursue that career. In our sixth year, we can apply for apparition lessons for a fee of twelve Galleons."

Harry paused, and Lucas could see him pondering over the information he just dumped on him. After a while, he spoke up. "What do you mean by houses?"

"There are four houses," Lucas explained. "Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. At the start of our first year, we'll get sorted into them."

"But how?" he asked.

He smirked. "That's for me to know and you to stress on."

He opened his mouth to talk back, but Madam Malkin walked over. "That's you done, my dear," she said.

Harry hopped off the stool and paying for the robes, he left the shop and Lucas watched him walk over to a large man that reminded him strongly of a giant.

He waited for a bit before they were done with his robes, then, after paying seven Galleons for his robes, exited the store and into the street.

He walked down the street and stopped to buy some parchment and quills, and he nearly laughed when he found a type of ink that would change colour.

"I'll get the books next," he told himself. 

He walked into Flourish and Blotts. The store was like a typical book store. It had shelves that were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather, books filled with different languages, silk books the size of postage stamps and books with nothing in them at all. He had to remind himself that he still had other supplies to buy. He always liked reading, especially since his dyslexia was minor.

He went to buy a pewter cauldron next, plus a nice set of scales and a collapsible telescope, then he went to the Apothecary, which was interesting enough to make up for its bad smell, which smelled like a combination of rotten eggs, mouldy cabbages and, for some odd reason, his mother's burnt cookies.

There were barrels of slimy stuff placed on the floor, while jars of herbs, dried roots and bright powders lined the walls. Bundles of feathers, strings of fangs and snarled claws hung on the ceiling. While the man at the counter groped around for the basic potion ingredients he asked for, Lucas examined silver unicorn horns that were twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule glittery black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop).

Outside of the Apothecary, Lucas checked his letter again. "Only the wand left," he told himself. "I could also get a pet. I don't need an owl, I got Iris Messages for communication." After pondering for a while, he decided that a cat was the best choice.

Twenty minutes later, he left Magical Menagerie, which was a very crowded shop that had cages of all sizes. Some stored owls, ravens, cats, rats, a rabbit that kept transforming into a black top hat, and multiple different species of magical creatures that he couldn't identify. Now he was holding a small and beautiful female Siamese Cat, who had fallen asleep in his arms.

"Only the wand left," he said to himself. It was what he was the most excited for.

Ollivander's was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read: _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C._ In the dusty window, there was a single wand resting on a faded purple pillow.

A tinkling bell rang out somewhere in the shop as he opened the door and stepped inside. It was a small place, empty asides from a spindly chair, which he gently set his cat on it. Lucas felt as if he had just entered a rigorous library, and glancing around; he saw the thousands of narrow boxes that were piled very neatly up to the ceiling.

"Good morning," said a voice behind him. Lucas flinched and he whirled around, reaching for his knife when he realized who had spoken.

An old man was standing before him, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," Lucas said, relaxing and trying to control his racing heartbeat.

"Hello," he responded. "Name?"

"Lucas, Sir," he replied. "Lucas Castellan."

"Ah, yes," he said. "Yes, yes. A Castellan. You took your mother's maiden name?"

"I didn't know my father," he lied, "and my mother doesn't talk about him."

He straightened. "Yes. Yes, yes, of course. It seems like only yesterday when your mother was in here, buying her wand. Ten and a half inches long, pliable, made of Silver Lime. Excellent for Divination."

Ollivander had come so near that he and Lucas were almost nose to nose.

"Well, Mr. Castellan," he stated, "We should be starting. Let's see." He pulled out a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which one's your wand arm?"

Lucas bit his lip in confusion. "Right arm," he answered, assuming that he meant what arm he used the most.

"Hold out your arm," he instructed him. "That's it." He measured Lucas from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and round his head. As he measured, he gave Lucas a rundown of his business. "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a magical substance, Mr. Castellan. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tailfeathers and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are the same. And, of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

Lucas suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves taking down boxes. 

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled to a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Castellan. Try this one. Dogwood and dragon heartstring. Ten 1/2 inches. Quite whippy. Just take it and give it a wave."

Lucas took the wand, and (feeling self-conscious) waved it like how he would use a sword, but the window panes of the shop shattered, and Ollivander snatched it out of his hand.

"Sorry," he apologized, breathing heavily.

"No matter," he replied. "Here- try this one. Hawthorn and unicorn hair. Ten inches. Reasonably springy. Try it."

He tried but barely raised it when Ollivander snatched it out of his hands.

"No, no," he muttered. "Here, red oak and phoenix feather, twelve 3/4 inches, brittle. Go on, go on, try it out."

He tried. And tried. He had no idea what Ollivander was waiting for, but after several wands later, Lucas didn't really care about the wands anymore- he was tired, he was hungry and he was tired of flinching every time the wands caused an accident, but the more wands he tried out, the happier Ollivander seemed to become.

"Tricky customer, eh?" he said. "Don't worry, I'm sure we'll find the perfect match for you. I think, hmm, yes. Why not this one? English Oak and unicorn hair, eleven 1/3 inches, nice and flexible."

Lucas took the wand. A warm feeling shot through his body as a stream of green and gold erupted from the wand and the shop repaired itself.

Ollivander smiled. "Excellent. That will be seven Galleons." He put the wand back into the box and wrapped it in brown paper.

Lucas paid before exiting the shop.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Lucas made his way down Diagon Ally and back into the Leaky Cauldron, where he booked a room with the barman, Tom. Technically he was supposed to be acting as Draco Maloy now that he had gotten his supplies, but he wasn't exactly eager to meet Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. He didn't know if he would be able to refrain from insulting them. But, he supposed, wasn't he doing that right now?

In his room, he sat on the bed and pulled out Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. If he was going to be attacked, he could at least be prepared. His cat, who he had decided to call Willow, jumped onto the bed and curled up beside him.

He smiled faintly as he absentmindedly stroked Willow, immersed in the book. He could faintly hear the customers downstairs ordering beverages and dishes, and he let himself get lost in the book, enjoying the peace before he had to start his quest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Platform 9 3/4**

Lucas's last few months were, uneventful to put it lightly. A better word would be torture. Absolute torture. With nothing to do, he had finished all of his textbooks in the first week and would've given anything to have a monster attack him. At least it would have kept him occupied. The only thing he had to do other than reading was to create a story for Draco Malfoy and get his appearance straight. 

He counted down the days until September the first, but by that day, he was really starting to regret his decision. He would manipulate the Mist to make Harry believe that he saw him like this in Madam Malkin's, but seriously, what was he thinking?

He had chosen for his hair to be slicked back with approximately five whole barrels of hair gel (just joking) and changed his eye colour to grey so he looked more like a child of Athena. The eye colour he could handle, but why did he choose for his hair to be slicked back like that? Just why? Oh, right! Because he thought I'd be fun!

"I'll be lucky if I'm not laughed at," Lucas muttered to himself as he dumped his trunk onto a trolley and pushed it towards platforms nine and ten. He was wearing jeans and a light blue sweater over his faded Camp Half-Blood t-shirt. He had already used the Mist to change his appearance, hence the muttering.

"Right," he said as he got to the platforms. "Just walk through the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Not the weirdest thing that's ever happened. If Thalia's spirit can create a border around camp to prevent mortals and monsters walking in, why can't a wall be some sort of gateway?"

Lucas gripped the handle tightly, heart pounding. He walked towards it, people jostling him as he went. People. Seems that wherever he went, people were always in a hurry. He kept walking, having complete faith in Hecate. This was magic, for Zeus's sake. It wouldn't let something like logic stop it. 

All of a sudden, he was no longer in Kings Cross station. 

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform filled with people. A sign above him said _Hogwarts Express, 11 o'clock_. Lucas glanced behind him, and where the barrier was, had been replaced by a wrought-iron archway, with the words _Platform 9 3/4_ written on it. He had done it. He had found platform 9 3/4.

Smoke from the engine drifted lazily above the heads of the chatty crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there, between their legs. Owls hooted to each other disgruntled, over the babble and scraping of the trunks.

The first few carriages were already full of students, some looking out of the windows to talk with their families, some fighting and bickering over seats. Lucas pushed his trolley down the platform, trying to find an empty compartment. Preferably away from the purebloods. The Weasleys were fine, based on what Hecate told him, but the others? Not so much. 

Lucas pressed through the crowd when he found an almost empty compartment in the middle of the train. Only one boy was sitting in it. He looked about two years older than him and he had dreadlocks.

"Can I sit here?" Lucas asked him, having pushed his trunk onto the train, with Willow sitting on it. 

He looked at him. "Sure," he responded casually. "Need a hand?"

"It's fine," Lucas said. "I can handle it." He dumped Willow onto the seat, then picked up the trunk by one side and dragged it to the corner of the compartment.

"I forgot to introduce myself," the boy said. "My name's Lee Jordan. You?"

"Draco Malfoy," Lucas replied. 

Lee raised an eyebrow. "A Malfoy? I would never have guessed."

"Was that sarcasm?" Lucas asked, feigning mock hurt.

He had achieved what he wanted. "No, no!" Lee exclaimed. "I was being serious. I mean, you look the part, but the way you hold yourself, the way you talk casually. I guess I just think of Malfoys as composed, serious, prejudiced people."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "That's my father," he told Lee. "And my mother," Lucas added after a pause. "Let me guess, also because I'm wearing muggle clothes?"

He nodded. Just then, a whistle sounded. "That'll be the signal for the train to leave," Lee informed him.

He huffed. "I know," he replied. "Just because I'm a first-year doesn't mean I'm an idiot."

The train took off and he could see the sets of houses out of the windows, and he felt the reality of the situation sink in. He was going to Hogwarts, a magic school. He was on a quest, which was what he had wanted ever since he got to camp. 

The compartment door slid open and two red-headed twins came in. They looked almost completely identical, and they were about the same age as Lee. They both had freckles and had a short, stocky build.

"Lee," they both greeted him in unison. 

Instantly Lucas had the impression of the Stolls, who were his half-brothers. They weren't twins, but they were prankers and would take pranking to the next level. Travis was the older one- he was the same age as Annabeth, while Conner was a year younger than Travis. He spent a lot of time around them, and he got the feeling he'd get along with these two great- if they accepted him, that is.

They looked at him. "Is this-" the one on the right said.

"a Malfoy?" the other one finished. Lucas guessed that the one on the right was the older one.

"Draco Malfoy," he said, bored. Gods of Olympus, he hated that name. Who names their child dragon? 

"He's nice for a Malfoy," Lee commented offhandedly. "I wouldn't be surprised if he landed himself in Hufflepuff."

"Well," the older one said. "I'm George-"

"And I'm Fred Weasley," the other one said.

Lucas smiled. "Nice to meet you, Fred," he nodded at the one who called himself George, "and George."

Lee stared at him as if he grew another head.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Um, you just told them apart," he informed him. "I've never seen anybody do that on their first day meeting them."

"I have two friends who act exactly like them," he said smoothly. The Stolls were his half-brothers, but they could also be classified as his friends. That was the first rule of lying. Always include a sliver of truth.

"Well," George said, as he sat down beside him, with Fred on the other side. "Looks like this is a beginning of an excellent friendship."

"Just a quick question before we start planning the wondrous pranks," Fred said. "Why aren't you sitting with the other purebloods?"

He sighed dramatically. "They're too boring and stuck up for me," he said in a fake pompous manner. "I'd rather shorten the time I have to spend around them. I'll suffer later."

At that, the twins and Lee burst into laughter, and Lucas joined in chuckling. At least someone at Hogwarts appreciated his humour.

"Merlin's beard," Lee said, struggling to stop laughing, while Fred and George kept on laughing. "I haven't laughed that hard in ages."

Lucas grinned. "I'm special!" he declared, which sent them all back in hysterical fits of giggles. "So," he said after they had all calmed down, "What did you mean when you mentioned pranks?"

Fred's eyes lit up. "Oh just you wait!" he exclaimed. "We're going to have so much fun pranking Slytherins-"

"Giving Filch trouble-" George added.

"And generally causing as much trouble as we possibly can," Fred finished proudly.

"How many detentions do you get in a week?" Lucas asked, already knowing the answer.

"Can't you have a little faith in us?" George practically whined, coaching a smile from Lee.

"About five times," he interjected.

Lucas shook his head. "Amateurs," he said. "Do you even try to stay out of detention?"

"Hey!" Fred and George yelled, outraged. "We are very sneaky!"

Lucas snorted. "You're talking to the person who can pickpocket items out of people's pockets without anyone noticing." He placed a double-ended, colour-coded chew on the table. "What even is this, anyway?" he asked, ignoring their looks of surprise.

"It's a Puking Pastille," Lee replied. "They want to start a joke shop, so they've been inventing stuff, but they haven't gotten a name yet."

"How 'bout 'Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes'?" Lucas asked innocently. "Named after you two? And who's Filch?"

"That's a fantastic name!" George exclaimed. "And to answer your second question, Filch is the caretaker."

While they were talking, the Hogwarts Express had taken them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields of cows and sheep. Their conversation had taken a more serious turn. There was a piece of parchment, with the words 'Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' on it and a quick sketch of a logo that Lucas drew on the table. The Weasleys were writing ideas of items they could make, with suggestions from Lucas and Lee.

Around half-past twelve, there was a loud clattering coming from the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and asked, "Anything off the trolley, dears?"

Lucas, Fred and George stayed put, but Lee jumped up, pushed past Fred and went out into the corridor. A minute later, he came back with his arms full with Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties and Drooble's Best Blowing Gum.

"Lee does this every year," George explained. "Dunno why."

"Every year?" Lucas asked. "Why?"

"Just feel like it," Lee said with a shrug as he dumped the packages on top of the parchment, then squeezing past Fred again.

"That's not a valid reason," Lucas pointed out as Fred took a bite out of a Pumpkin Pasty.

"Don't care," Lee said, he reached for a pack of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum.

Lucas unwrapped a Chocolate Frog and ate it, hiding his surprise at the moving treat. He picked up the card, and it showed a woman's face. She had pale skin, a purple cloak and she held a crystal ball between her hands. Underneath the picture was the name _Cassandra Vablatsky_.

Lucas turned over the card and read:

_Cassandra Vablatsky was a celebrated seer and author of 'Unfogging the Future', a guide to all basic fortune-telling methods, including palmistry, crystal balls and bird entrails._

Lucas almost dropped the card in shock, before composing himself. Seer. After what had happened with his mother, he had gained a natural fear of oracles and divination in general. Of course, he was much more afraid of cyclops, but that's not relevant.

"Have you ever eaten a Chocolate Frog before?" Lee asked, noticing how he was looking at the card.

"No," Lucas replied. "I normally don't eat sweets."

Fred stared at him. "You're joking," he said.

"Why would I?" he asked. "I never had a reason to eat any." That was true in a way. When at risk of being killed, he had learned to never gain too much weight, lest be killed by a monster.

"It's just surprising, that's all," Lee interjected.

"Right," Lucas replied. "What house are you all in, anyway?"

"Gryffindor," they all answered simultaneously.

"No surprise there," Lucas commented. "I 'spect I'll be in Slytherin."

"Maybe not," Lee said. "They look at your traits to sort you in your house. You seem more like a Hufflepuff to me."

"I don't want to receive a howler," Lucas said firmly, crossing his arms.

The countryside flying past the window was now becoming wilder. The neat fields had been replaced by woods, twisting rivers and dark green hills.

"We should change," Fred said with a look at the window. "It's getting late."

The three of them took off their jackets (and in Lucas's case, his sweater), and they pulled on their long black robes.

Just as they had finished, a voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Lucas took a deep breath, feeling clammy with nerves. He joined the crowd in the corridors, with Fred, George and Lee behind him.

"The first years go to the school by boats," George informed him. "The rest go by carriages."

"Ok," Lucas replied, keeping his voice steady, despite his nerves.

The train lurched to a stop. People pushed their way towards the door and out onto a small, dark platform. Lucas's breath steamed in front of him, but it wasn't that cold for him. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Lucas heard a gruff voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?" He addressed Harry, who was behind him.

The giant that Lucas saw two months ago in Diagon Ally beamed over the sea of heads.

"C'mon, follow me- any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, Lucas parted ways with Lee and the Weasleys, he followed the rest of the first years and Hagrid down what he assumed to be a steep, narrow path. It was very dark on both sides of the path- so dark, in fact, that Lucas thought there must be trees there. Nobody spoke much. One boy sniffled a few times.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the giant informed them over his shoulder. "Jus' round this bend here."

There was a sudden "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened up onto the edge of a great, black lake. Perched on a high mountaintop on the other side, its windows gleaming in the night sky, was a giant castle with many turrets and towers. It wasn't as great as Olympus, but Lucas hung out with Annabeth long enough to know this was pure art- by mortal standards.

"No more'n four to a boat!" he called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting by the shore with his thick finger. Lucas headed to one of the boats, followed by two boys and a girl, who he assumed were the prejudiced pure-bloods Fred mentioned.

"Everyone in?" the giant shouted, who had an entire boat to himself. "Right then- FORWARD!"

The little fleet of boats took off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was smooth as glass. Nobody spoke, all occupied with staring at the vast castle towering over them, seemingly getting larger and larger as they neared the cliff it sat on.

"Heads down!" the giant yelled as they reached the cliff; they all ducked their heads and the boats carried them past a curtain of ivy that hid a large entrance in the cliff face. They were brought down a long, dark tunnel, which seemed to be under the castle until they arrived at some sort of underground harbour, where they clambered out of the boats, and onto rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" the giant asked, who was checking the boats as people clambered out of them.

"Trevor!" the boy who sniffling earlier cried blissfully, holding out his hands. They clambered into a tunnel carved into the rock side after the giant, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of Hogwarts.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and huddled around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

He raised a ginormous hand and knocked thrice on the door.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: The Sorting Ceremony**

The door immediately swung open. A tall, black-haired witch wearing emerald green robes was standing there. She had a stern expression, and Lucas's first impression was that this was not someone he would want to cross. 

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid informed her.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door open wide. The entrance hall was large enough to fit the Big House in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches- the symbol of Hecate. The ceiling was too high to make out, and a majestic marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the weakened stone floor. Lucas could hear hundreds of voices from a doorway to his right- he assumed that the rest of the school must have already arrived, but Professor McGonagall took the first years into a small, empty chamber outside of the hall. They crowded in, standing closer than they usually would've done, gazing about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are each called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Lucas noted that her gaze travelled to the boy who kept losing his toad, and a lanky, red-headed boy- who he assumed was related to Fred and George. 

"I will return when we are ready for you," she informed them. "Please wait quietly."

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Lucas heard Harry ask the red-headed boy.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Lucas nearly laughed, but he didn't want anyone to think of him as insane. Of course, the twins would've done something like that. He didn't know exactly what the test was but based on what Lee had said, they would look at his traits. Hecate had mentioned that too. Everyone was quiet- except for a girl with bushy brown hair. She was whispering very quickly about all the spells she had learnt and which one she'd need. Despite Lucas having a good idea about what the test was, he still felt very anxious. He had never felt this nervous before, except maybe when he and Annabeth had to save Luke, Thalia and Grover from a cyclops. He kept his eyes glued to the door. Professor McGonagall would return any second now.

Then something happened that made him flinch, and several people behind him screamed.

"What the-?"

He stared. So did many people behind him. About 20 ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and translucent, they glided through the room talking to each other, ignoring the first years. Lucas struggled to hide his shock. He had seen many strange things in his lifetime, but ghosts were something new to him. Of course, he knew there were ghosts, but he had never actually seen any.

The ghosts seemed to be arguing.

"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance," a fat little monk said.

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really a ghost- I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost sporting ruffs and tights had just noticed the first years.

Nobody said anything.

"New students!" the Fat Friar exclaimed, smiling around at them. "About to be sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded quietly.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" the Friar said. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," a sharp voice said. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

It was Professor McGonagall. One by one, the ghosts drifted through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall ordered the first years, "and follow me."

Feeling his legs suddenly turn stiff, Lucas got into line behind the girl with bushy brown hair and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, through a pair of double doors and into the Great Hall.

Lucas had never seen a mortal place this strange or amazing. The Great Hall was lit by thousands upon thousands of candles which were suspended above four long tables, which were occupied by the rest of the students. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates, goblets and utensils. At the front of the hall was another long table, occupied by the staff. Professor McGonagall led the first years up there so they came to a halt in front of the other students, with the staff behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like hundreds of pale lanterns illuminated by the candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students was the occasional ghost, shining mistily silver. Lucas noticed Harry looking up and Hermione whispering about why the ceiling looked like a replica of the sky outside.

It was difficult to believe that there was a ceiling at all and that the Great Hall didn't simply just extend to Olympus.

Professor McGonagall set down a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool, she placed an extremely frayed and patched wizard's hat.

Lucas stared at the hat, noticing how everyone seemed to be doing the same thing. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Lucas swore you could hear a pin drop. Then the hat twitched. A wide rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat began to sing.

_"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
So you can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
_ _So try me on and I will tell you  
_ _Where you ought to be.  
_ _You might belong in Gryffindor,  
_ _Where dwell the brave at heart,  
_ _Their daring, nerve and chivalry  
_ _Set Gryffindors apart;  
_ _You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
_ _Where they are just and loyal,  
_ _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
_ _And unafraid of toil;  
_ _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
_ _If you've a ready mind,  
_ _Where those of wit and learning,  
_ _Will always find their kind;  
_ _Or perhaps in Slytherin  
_ _You'll make your real friends,  
_ _Those cunning folk use any means  
_ _To achieve their ends.  
_ _So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
_ _And don't get in a flap!  
_ _You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
_ _For I'm a thinking cap!"_

The entire hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and became motionless again.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward, a roll of parchment in her hand. 

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she told them. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde hair tied back in pigtails stumbled out of the line and put on the hat, which fell over her eyes.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted after a moment's pause.

The table on the right cheered as Hannah went down to sit with them, and Lucas saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving cheerfully at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat screamed once again, and Susan ran to join Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

This time the table second from the left clapped and several Ravenclaws stood up to shake his hand.

'Brocklehurst, Mandy' went to Ravenclaw too, but 'Brown, Lavender' became the first new Gryffindor and the table on the far left erupted in cheers. Lucas could see Fred and George catcalling.

Then 'Bulstrode, Millicent' became a Slytherin. Lucas noted how they seemed very unpleasant.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, Lucas realized, the Sorting Hat immediately shouted out the house, but other times, it took a long time to decide. 'Finnigan, Seamus', a sandy-haired boy who was standing beside Harry, had sat on the stool for nearly a minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

The bushy-haired girl next to Lucas in the line ran up to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly onto her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat shouted. The red-headed boy beside Harry groaned.

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he tripped on the way to the stool. The hat took a very long time deciding with Neville. When it finally shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" he took off with it still on his head and had to run back to give it to 'MacDougal, Morag'. 

"Malfoy, Draco!"

Lucas stepped forward and placed the hat on his head.

"Hmm," a small voice said beside his ear. "Another Castellan and a demigod. Plenty of courage I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, no doubt. Cunning, resourceful and incredibly stubborn. Loyal, modest, kind and brave. Where to put you? I know! Best be SLYTHERIN!"

The hat screamed its decision to the whole hall. Lucas took off the hat and walked towards the Slytherin table, where he sat down next to a ghost with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face and robes stained with silver blood.

There weren't many people left now. 

'Moon'..., 'Nott'..., 'Parkinson'..., then two twin girls, 'Patil' and 'Patil'..., and then-

"Potter, Harry!"

Whispers erupted all around the hall as soon as Professor McGonagall called Harry's name.

" _Potter,_ did she say?"

" _The_ Harry Potter?"

As people sat up taller to get a closer look at Harry, Lucas watched patiently as he walked up to the stool and put the hat on.

Lucas personally wished Harry would be put in Slytherin. It would enable him to become closer to him and make his job much easier, but Lucas was pretty sure that he wouldn't be in Slytherin. He must've heard from someone else about Slytherin's dark reputation. Lucas wasn't too happy about being put in Slytherin, but sometimes you had to make sacrifices.

When the Sorting Hat finally yelled "GRYFFINDOR!" to the entire hall, Lucas was sure he would go permanently deaf. It was blatantly obvious that Harry was getting the loudest cheer yet, and Harry either didn't care or was in too much shock to notice. Lucas saw another red-headed boy get up and shake his hand- possibly another one of Fred and George's siblings. Fred and George were yelling "We got Potter!" and the ghost in the ruffs he had seen earlier patted Harry's arm as he sat down opposite to the ghost. 

There weren't many people left. In fact, there were only three left. 'Turpin, Lisa' became a Ravenclaw and the red-headed boy ('Weasley, Ron') became a Gryffindor. Turns out he was right about him being Fred and George's brother. How many did they have?

Immersed in his thoughts, Lucas wasn't paying attention to anything going around until a tall, dark-skinned boy sat down next to him.

Albus Dumbledore stood up. He was beaming at them, arms spread wide as if nothing could deter him from being this joyful. 

"Welcome!" he declared. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everyone either clapped or cheered, and Lucas let out a snort.

Then he glanced down at the table, and Lucas's eyes widened, which luckily went unnoticed by the other Slytherins who were too busy stuffing their face with food. The empty plates in front of him were now piled with food. There were roast beef, roast chicken, pork and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and for whatever reason, mint humbugs.

Lucas never starved himself, but he never ate more than necessary, either. There were the Camp Half-Blood plates and cups, which filled itself with whatever food or drink you wanted, but they never provided too much. He took a bit of the roast chicken, roast potatoes and the sausages.

"You don't eat much," the ghost beside him noted. "Though, I suppose you don't want to, with monsters hunting you down."

Lucas glanced at the ghost. He wasn't surprised, since Hecate had told him in advance that all magical creatures of the Wizarding World knew a demigod when they saw one.

"Can you, er, keep it down?" Lucas asked politely.

"Of course," the ghost replied in a much quieter voice. "It's very rare for a demigod to be a witch or a wizard, and they always keep it quiet. I don't think I've introduced myself. The Bloody Baron at your service. Resident ghost of Slytherin Dungeon."

Lucas nodded, unsure what to say. He felt as if the littlest thing would set him off. He wanted to ask about the blood but couldn't bring himself to raise the subject. He decided to go on a safer route and continue eating.

After everyone had eaten, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them as sparkling clean as ever. A few seconds later, dessert arrived. There were blocks of ice cream in every flavour you could imagine, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, jelly, rice pudding... It went on and on.

As Lucas helped himself to a chocolate éclair, the talk quickly turned to blood purity, and Lucas internally groaned.

"Both my parents were Pure-Bloods," a girl (who Lucas would later identify as Daphne Greengrass) said. "Sacred Twenty-Eight."

Pansy nodded. "Of course," she said. "Can't imagine if a Mudblood came in. It'd be a disgrace! If I turned out to be one, I think I'd kill myself in shame, wouldn't you?" She directed the question at Lucas.

"Totally!" Lucas replied, faking an arrogant tone. He assumed that Mudblood meant muggle-born. "I mean, even being a half-blood would be a shame. Can't imagine how filthy the house would be," he joked half-heartedly.

The brown-skinned boy sitting next to him chuckled. Evidently, none of them had realized how much this pained him. Lucas had half a mind to strangle them. Why did blood purity matter?

After a while (which sadly, included Lucas nearly dying of boredom), the dessert finally vanished, and Dumbledore stood up, once again. Instantly the hall fell silent, which was lucky for Lucas because he was just about to strangle the Slytherins.

"Ahem- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore glanced at Fred and George.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

A few people laughed, but Lucas bit his lip, waiting for an explanation. None came. Lucas noticed that some of the teachers' smiles became rather forced.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore exclaimed.

Dumbledore flicked his wand as if he wanted to get a fly off the end and a long, golden ribbon flew out of it, where it rose above the staff's table and twisted itself into large words.

"Everyone pick your favourite tune," Dumbledore instructed them, "and off we go!"

And the school sang:

_"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  
Teach us something please,  
Whether we be old and bald  
Or young with scabby knees,  
Our heads could do with filling  
_

_With some interesting stuff,  
For now, they're bare and full of air,   
Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot,  
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot."_

Everyone finished at different paces. In the end, only Fred and George were left, who were singing to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted the last few notes, and when they were done, he was one of the ones who had clapped the loudest.

"Ah, music," he declared, tears in his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Slytherin first years followed a Slytherin prefect, Gemma Farley, out of the Great Hall, down a set of stone steps, and into the dungeons. She led them down the drafty corridor and in front of a stone wall.

"Sacred Twenty-Eight," Gemma told the wall, and it swung open. They walked through and entered into the Slytherin common room, which was a dungeon-like room with greenish lamps and large windows that revealed the depths of the Great Lake.

Gemma showed the girls into one door to their dormitories, and the boys in another. At the top of a staircase, they found their beds- five four-posters beds hung with green silk hangings. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to say much, the first years each chose a bed, pulled on their pyjamas and laid in bed. Lucas fell asleep at once.

As soon as he fell asleep, Lucas found himself outside the third-floor corridor, with the door ajar. He could faintly make out three voices as something, presumably invisible, pushed the door open.

The scene faded, and Lucas realized that he was now inside the corridor and a three-headed dog was sniffing madly at something in front of it. Lucas could now hear the voices clearly.

"What's that at its feet?" a girl whispered.

"Looks like a harp," someone else answered. "Snape must've left it there."

"It must wake up the moment you stop playing," a voice that was unmistakably Harry's, concluded. "Well, here goes..."

A tune rang out throughout the room. Well, it was more of a single note, and it sounded like an owl, but the three-headed dog's eyes had already begun to droop. 

Lucas watched as Harry jumped down from the trapdoor, followed by Ron, Fred and George's brother, and then Hermione. As soon as Hermione went down, the three-headed dog woke up and glanced around looking for who had just left and its red eyes fixed on Lucas. For a second, the dog just stared at him, then it opened its drooling mouth, which came down on him, and the dream faded to black.

Lucas sat up quickly, drenched in a cold sweat. It was clear that was the forbidden third-floor corridor and that Harry would go searching for it.

"I love my life," Lucas mumbled sarcastically. "Cheery. Real cheery. All sunshine and rainbows."

Lucas laid back down and rolled over, determined to at least have a good night's sleep. If not, well, his roommates would have to suffer with him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: The Slytherin Head of House**

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

As Lucas passed by Harry and Ron in an attempt to get to his classes on time, whispers followed Harry the entire day. People waiting outside classrooms would stand on their tippy-toes to see him properly, and several people doubled back again, staring at him. Lucas almost felt sick. Didn't they have better things to do? Didn't they realize that they were making him uncomfortable?

And that was only part of it.

There were a total of one hundred forty-two staircases in Hogwarts. There were wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led to someplace different on a certain day, and then there were some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Some doors wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or unless you tickled them in exactly the right place, or doors that were only walls pretending to be doors. It was almost impossible to remember where everything was since everything seemed to move. Fred and George gave him the Marauders' Map, a map that would show a map of Hogwarts, the secret passages out, and everyone in Hogwarts.

The ghosts weren't much help either. It was a terrible right when one of the ghosts suddenly floated through the wall in front of you and Lucas nearly killed one out of fright. Luckily no one saw. Some of the ghosts were alright, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if he caught you on your way to class. He would drop baskets on your head, pull rugs from underneath your feet, toss bits of chalk on you, or grab you from behind and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!" It was terribly amusing if he did it to someone else, but not so much when it happened to you.

And then, once you found the classes, it wasn't all wand-waving and magic words.

They had to study the night sky through their telescopes at night every Wednesday and learn all the names of the stars and movement of the planets, which Lucas caught on pretty quickly, even if it wasn't his favourite subject. Three times a week they went to the greenhouses behind the castle to learn Herbology with a little witch named Professor Sprout, where they learned about all the different sorts of magical fungi and plants and their uses.

Easily the most boring subject was History of Magic, which was the only class whose Professor was a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old when he fell asleep in front of the staff room fire, where he left his body behind as got up the next morning to teach. Professor Binns droned on and on, and Lucas could only keep up by scribbling the topic on a piece of parchment, then reading up on it later.

Charms was also different. It was taught by Professor Flitwick, a tiny wizard that had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. The spells were fairly easy to remember for Lucas, especially since most of them had Latin or Greek roots.

Professor McGonagall was different as well. Lucas's impression that she was not someone to cross was right. Stern and bright, she gave them a speech as soon as they entered the classroom.

"Transfiguration is one of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she informed them. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

She then transfigured her desk into a pig and back again. They were very impressed by this and couldn't wait to get started, but it was soon blatantly clear that they wouldn't be turning furniture into animals for a very long time. After making a long list of very complicated notes, they were each given a match, and by the end of the lesson, they had to succeed in making it turn into a needle. By the end of the lesson, Lucas had only managed to turn his match into half of a needle.

The class every first-year was looking forward to was Defence Against the Dark Arts, and that turned out to be a bit of a laughing stock. It was taught by Professor Quirrell, a young man with pale skin, who sported a purple turban. His classroom had a strong smell of garlic, which was used to ward off a vampire he had met in Romania and he was afraid of it coming back to get him if you believed the rumours. He had told them his turban had been gifted to him from an African prince as a thank you gift for fighting off a difficult zombie, but everyone knew that it was a lie- even Crabbe and Goyle knew it, and they were the biggest idiots Lucas had ever encountered. For one, when Theodore Nott asked how he had fought the zombie off, he turned pink and changed the subject. For another, there was a funny smell coming from the turban, which Fred and George swore it was because it was also stuffed with garlic so Quirrell could be protected where ever he went.

Friday was a very dreadful day. Sure, he had managed to get to the Great Hall without getting lost for once, but that was about it.

"What've we got?" Blaise asked. Blaise Zabini was the dark-skinned boy he had managed to prod a laugh out of at the Start-of-Term feast, and they had quickly become friends. He was tolerable- when he wasn't talking about blood purity like the others, and friendly. He couldn't just be friends with the twins and Lee.

"Double Potions with the Gryffindors," Lucas replied darkly. In truth, he was quite happy. While he knew that Snape, the Slytherin Head of House, favoured Slytherins, he wanted to be able to keep an eye on Harry, especially after the dream. He was pretty sure that having dreams about the future wasn't normal, but he didn't care. The warning was nice. He only had Potions with the Gryffindors and he hoped that Harry wouldn't be dead before Potions.

The Potions classroom was located in one of the dungeons. It was easily much colder than anywhere else in the castle, including the Slytherin dungeons and would've been creepy even without the pickled animals floating in jars that were adorned all over the room.

Snape had started the class by taking the register, and when he got Harry's name, he paused. "Ah, yes," he said quietly and softly. "Harry Potter. Our new- _celebrity_."

Lucas heard Crabbe and Goyle snigger behind their hands. He rolled his eyes, careful to not let anyone see. Why did Snape have to do that? It wasn't as if Harry had asked for Voldemort to kill him.

Snape finished calling the names and scanned the class. His eyes were black, and they were cold and empty, like a long, dark tunnel.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. His voice was barely a whisper, but they caught every word. Like Professor McGonagall, he had the skill to keep a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

There was a prolonged silence where nobody spoke- Lucas saw Hermione sitting on the edge of her seat, no doubt wanting to prove to Snape that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" Snape exclaimed suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Lucas watched as Harry looked at Ron, stumped, while Hermione's hand shot up in the air.

Lucas shifted on his seat. He was sure he had read that somewhere, but he couldn't remember. 

"I don't know, Sir," Harry replied.

Snape's lip curled up in a sneer. "Tut, tut- fame clearly isn't everything." 

He continued to ignore Hermione's hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

At this, Lucas was pretty sure he knew the answer. From the stomach of a goat. But surely Snape didn't expect Harry to remember every single detail in _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_?

Lucas's question was soon answered.

"I don't know, Sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Snape asked him.

Lucas swore internally. And it wasn't pleasant, either. Why did Snape hate so much? That wasn't the cause of favouriting Slytherins, that was hatred.

Snape was still ignoring Hermione's vibrating hand.

"What is the difference, Potter, between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

Lucas glanced at Harry, hoping that he could at least know one of them. Hermione had stood up. Monkshood and Wolfsbane were the same. Lucas didn't need anyone to tell him that. He had overheard a debate on plants by the Demeter cabin, and he had learned that they were different names for the same plant. 

"I don't know," Harry replied quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

At this, a few people laughed and Lucas bit his tongue to keep quiet, though he soon regretted doing this when he accidentally drew a bit of blood.

Snape, however, was not amused. "Sit down!" he snapped at Hermione. Lucas pulled out a sheet of parchment and a quill assuming that Snape was going to reveal the answers. "For your information, Potter," he continued, "asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Lucas had already finished writing it down. 

"And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter," he told Harry as the other students were copying it down.

Things got worse for the Gryffindors as the lesson progressed, and Lucas couldn't help but feel bad for the Gryffindors. Snape had put them all into pairs and set them to brewing a simple Cure for Boils potion. He swept across the classroom in his black robes, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing everyone except for Lucas, who he seemed to like for some odd reason. Snape was just informing the class of how well he had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the room. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted lump and their potion was dripping onto the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds the whole class stood on their stools while Neville, who had managed to drench himself in the potion when Seamus's cauldron melted, moaned in pain as boils sprang up on his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" Snape hissed as he vanished the spilt potion with one flick of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered in pain as boils started to emerge on his nose. It was a gruesome sight.

"Take him to the Hospital Wing," Snape ordered Seamus. Then he turned to Harry and Ron, who were working next to them. "You- Potter- why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

Lucas saw Harry open his mouth to argue but immediately closed it. Smart. From what he'd seen so far, Snape could probably be brutal when he wanted to be.

As Lucas climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, he headed directly to the library. He figured it would be better to get homework out of the way so he could concentrate on the quest. Besides, nearly all the Slytherins hated the library. It would be an excellent place to hide from them, except for the fact that he seriously doubted that Lee and the twins would go there. 

When he entered, he headed for a corner of the library that was in the Transfiguration section. He sat down and decided to do his Astronomy homework, which consisted of writing the names of the stars that were located in the constellation Cygnus.

When he was done, he was putting the parchment away in his bag when he glanced up and saw Hermione looking for a book in the section he was in.

"Do you need help?" he asked her. 

She looked at him in surprise. "Sure!" she replied. "I just wanted a book on transfiguration for some light reading."

Lucas shook his head. "Based on what I've seen so far, I wouldn't be surprised if you're the top of the class," he told her. "I'm pretty sure you could give Rowena Ravenclaw a run for her money."

She blushed. "Well, I wouldn't put it that far."

"It's the truth," Lucas replied. "Draco Malfoy."

"Hermione Granger."

"Nice name," Lucas commented. "So, what book do you want?" He had stood up and walked over to where Hermione was.

" _Transformation Through the Ages_ ," Hermione replied.

They soon found the book and chatted for a bit. Hermione strongly reminded Lucas of Annabeth, though Hermione wasn't as aggressive, nor did she look like Annabeth. Lucas almost laughed at himself. Of course, he would befriend more Gryffindors than Slytherins, with one of them being a bookworm. When she got up to leave, Lucas almost wanted to keep talking, even if he had homework to finish and the fact that she made him nostalgic for Camp Half-Blood. Then again, Fred and George reminded him of Connor and Travis.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Cerebus's Twin**

When Fred and George told Lucas that their brother, Ron, became friends with Harry, Lucas didn't anticipate how hard Ron would make his quest.

He could cope with the insults and name-calling. Sure, it hurt, but he always laughed it off and made a joke out of it. To make matters worse, Ron had successfully convinced Harry to hate him. But as Hecate said, if he decides he hates you, go out of your way to follow him. The fact that Lucas always had a retort available probably didn't help either.

Then a notice was pinned up in the Slytherin Common Room stating that Slytherins and Gryffindors would have Flying Lessons together, which would start on Thursday. Most of the Slytherins groaned, but Lucas kept his expression neutral.

"What do you think?" Blaise asked him.

"Dunno," Lucas replied truthfully. True, he was excited to learn to fly, and the lesson would allow him to keep an eye on Harry, but he really wasn't in the mood for their insults. And name-calling.

Blaise raised an eyebrow. 

"I don't have an opinion," Lucas clarified. "I honestly don't care."

Blaise snorted. "That's rich, considering you're the one that gets yelled at the most."

"Since when do I care?" Lucas asked him. "They're terrible at insults. And their glares? It's like a puppy eating a marshmallow."

Lucas and Blaise both burst into laughter.

"I don't know how you do it," Blaise said.

"Do what?" Lucas asked innocently, knowing the answer.

"Make people laugh without trying."

Lucas grinned. "It's inherited."

Blaise rolled his eyes and changed the subject. "I can't wait for the lesson," he told him. "Just you wait. When it comes to our second year, I'll be the best Chaser the Slytherin Quidditch team has ever seen."

Lucas chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. I don't think you'd meet the criteria. Have you seen the team members?" He shook his head. "And, for the record, you talk about flying and Quidditch way too much."

Blaise scoffed, which Lucas gladly ignored. Contrary to what Blaise believed, he _did_ talk about Quidditch a lot. Lucas would often be forced to endure long talks of the different types of broomsticks and teams. More often than not, Lucas would zone out, than be brought out of his thoughts by Blaise scolding him for not listening.

Blaise wasn't the only one. In fact, most of the Slytherins talked about flying. Possibly more than blood purity. Scratch that, they talked about flying _all the time_. Especially the Quidditch Captain, Marcus Flint. He would tell anyone who would listen about the Quidditch techniques and whether Slytherin would win the Inter-House Quidditch Cup again this year. Everyone in the school that came from wizarding families would talk about Quidditch. Even some of the insults directed to muggle-borns had Quidditch in them. 

As he was eating breakfast in the Great Hall, he managed to hear Hermione's lecture about flying tips that she had gotten from a library book, _Quidditch Through the Ages_. Lucas almost felt sorry for the Gryffindors. Almost. But then, Blaise was talking his ear off with Quidditch, so he couldn't talk. Luckily Blaise's monologue was interrupted by the morning post.

Lucas got post every day, much to his horror. The Malfoy family's owl, which was an eagle owl, brought packages of sweets every single day, which he would open, then stuff everything back in. He would usually give the packages to Fred and George to hex. Of course, he would also help and sometimes he would give it to them already hexed.

As he slunk away from the Slytherin table to go for a walk on the school grounds before classes, he overheard a conversation occurring on the Gryffindor table.

"It's a Remembrall!" he heard Neville exclaim excitedly. "Gran knows I forget things- this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red- oh..." Lucas watched as his face fell because the Remembrall had just glowed scarlet, "you've forgotten something..."

Lucas walked over as Neville screwed his face up in concentration, trying to remember what it was exactly that he had forgotten. 

"Maybe your Potions book," Lucas suggested. It was true- Neville's bag was slightly open, and from what Lucas could see, his Potions book was missing.

Ron lept to his feet, seemingly determined to throw an insult at him. "Go stuff yourself, Malfoy," he spat.

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes, I'm so terrified," he said sarcastically. "Please take mercy on me- what did I ever do to you?" Lucas stalked off before anyone could reply, well aware of Fred and George's surprised looks, as well as Hermione's shocked expression.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

At exactly three-thirty that afternoon, Lucas, Blaise, and the other first-year Slytherins walked quickly down the stone, front steps into the grounds as they made their way to their first flying lesson. Lucas was excited for the lesson, even if he tried to not let it show. The day was a clear, breezy day and the grass underneath their feet rippled as they marched down the sloping hills to a smooth lawn opposite to the Forbidden Forest, whose trees were swinging darkly in the distance.

The Gryffindors had yet to arrive, and about twenty broomsticks were lying on the grass in neat rows. During the nights where Lucas would meet up with Fred and George, he had heard a lot about the school brooms, none of it good. Some would start to vibrate if you flew too high, or they would always fly slightly to the left.

Soon after the Gryffindors had arrived, their professor, Madam Hooch had also arrived. She had short, grey hair and yellow eyes not unlike a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she snapped. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Lucas bit his lip as he glanced at his broom. It looked like something you would find in a museum and some of the twigs on the end looked far too short. 

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," Madam Hooch instructed them from the front. "And say, 'Up!'"

Lucas's broom jumped up at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione's had simply rolled over, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Maybe brooms could sense when you were afraid, Lucas thought. It couldn't be plainer that Neville wanted to keep both feet on the ground, which was probably for the best. He managed to have an extraordinary amount of accidents with both feet on the ground. Theodore Nott's broom came up extremely fast and whacked him in the face, and Lucas hid a grin.

Then Madam Hooch taught them how to mount their brooms without falling off- she walked up and down the rows, correcting their grips. Ron and Harry were extremely happy when Madam Hooch corrected Lucas's grip- they obviously thought that he'd been doing it for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," she told them. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle- three- two-"

She was cut by Neville, who was too afraid of being left on the ground- he had pushed off hard before the whistle had even touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising like a cork shooting out of a bottle. He rose twelve feet- twenty feet. Lucas watched as his pale white face look down at the ground in fear, and as he gasped and slipped off the broom.

There was a thud and a nasty crack as laid face down on the lawn in a tangled heap, and Lucas winced in sympathy. Neville's broomstick was still rising higher, drifting lazily towards the Forbidden Forest.

Madam Hooch was hunched over Neville, her face almost as pale as his.

"Broken wrist," she muttered. "Come on, boy- it's alright, up you get."

She turned to the rest of them. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the Hospital Wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'. Come on, dear."

Neville, whose face was streaked with tears, clutched his wrist and tottered after Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Blaise burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" Blaise asked.

The other Slytherins joined in, while Lucas became annoyed. Why did he have to get sorted into the house of big bullies?

"Shut up, Zabini," Parvati Patil snapped.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" Pansy asked. "Never thought _you'd_ like fat little cry babies, Parvati."

Lucas snapped. He would've taken on all of the Slytherins, if not for Hermione, who held him back.

"Let me at them," he hissed.

"No!" she hissed back. "You'll just get all of us in trouble."

Eventually, Lucas relented, and for some miracle, nobody noticed their exchange.

"Look!" Blaise exclaimed, running forward and picking up something off the ground. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

The Remembrall shone in the sun as Blaise held it up.

"Give that here, Zabini," Harry said to Blaise. The was a period of silence as everyone stopped to watch.

Blaise smiled cruelly.

"No, I don't think so," he informed Harry. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect- how about- up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Blaise had mounted his broomstick and taken off. Considering he talked about flying constantly, it was no surprise that Blaise could fly well. In a matter of seconds, he was hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak.

"Come and get it, Potter!" Blaise called out.

Lucas watched as Harry grabbed his broom, but Hermione held a hand out.

" _No_!" Hermione scolded him. "Madam Hooch told us not to move- you'll get us all into trouble."

Harry had ignored her. He mounted his broom and he rose effortlessly. Lucas heard girls scream and gasp and Ron's whoop of glee. Lucas couldn't help but feel the same. Harry was a natural on the broomstick.

Lucas looked at Harry and Blaise, amused as he watched Harry turn his broomstick and Blaise's stunned look.

"Give it here," Harry told Blaise, "or I'll knock you off your broom!"

Blaise tried to sneer, "Oh yeah?" but he looked worried.

Harry leant forward and held the broom tightly between his hands and it shot towards Blaise like a lance. Blaise had only got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp u-turn and held his broomstick steady. A few people next to Lucas were clapping.

"Nobody up here to save your neck, Zabini," Harry taunted. 

The same thought seemed to have occurred to Blaise.

"Catch it if you can, then," Blaise shouted, and he Remembrll high in the air- it streaked upwards then fell as gravity took hold of it.

Harry had leant forward and pointed the broom handle down. The next second, he was gathering velocity in a steep plunge, racing the ball. He stretched out his hand and when he was a foot from the ground he caught it- just in time to pull out of the dive. He toppled gently onto the grass, the Remembrall clutched safely in his hand.

"HARRY POTTER!" 

Lucas flinched, hand instinctively going to his pocket as Professor McGonagall ran towards them. She was furiously glaring at Harry, who had gotten to his feet, trembling.

" _Never_ \- in all my time at Hogwarts-"

Professor McGonagall was almost voiceless with shock, her glasses glinting furiously. "-how _dare_ you- might have broken your neck-"

"It wasn't his fault Professor-"

"Be quiet Miss Patil-"

"But Zabini-"

"That's enough, Mr Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

As Professor McGonagall led Harry towards the castle, muttering under her breath, Lucas's heart sank. Would Harry be expelled? If so, how would Lucas be able to complete his quest? 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Lucas saw Harry sitting at the Gryffindor table looking quite happy, to say Lucas was relieved would be an understatement. He was overjoyed. 

Then Blaise dragged him over to propose a Wizard's duel with Harry and Ron, and he immediately soured. At least he had proposed the Trophy Room. It was very close to the third-floor corridor. Hopefully, they'd find it and know not to go looking for the duplicate of Cerebus.

To make matters worse, Blaise had set them up. He told them his _magnificent_ plan to get them in trouble, and Lucas almost punched him in the face. Almost. If not for the fact that Gemma was there.

"Smart, eh?" he asked him as they got into their dormitory.

" _Yeah_ ," Lucas said sarcastically. "Just like a Slytherin."

He frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: The Troll**

"What?" Lucas asked, annoyed. Blaise had been tapping him on the shoulder ever since they had entered the Great Hall, and it was irritating.

"I don't believe it!" Blaise exclaimed. "Look!"

Lucas glanced at where Blaise was pointing at, which turned out to be the Gryffindor table. Harry and Ron were fine, and they seemed to be talking about the three-headed dog quite happily, which sank Lucas's spirits. They seemed to be keen to get into more trouble if anything.

"You'll have more chances to get at them," Lucas told Blaise bitterly. And he'd have a better chance to convince them not to go looking for the dog. But if they did, he'd do his best to help them, even if not directly.

Blaise sighed wistfully. "True," he said.

Lucas ignored him and continued eating. Ever since Blaise had pulled off that stunt in their flying lesson, Lucas had been acting cold to him. He found it was much easier than yelling at him, though that didn't work out. After that lesson, Blaise asked him what was wrong, and it had led to their first-ever row. No, it was Lucas's first row with anyone. He had never been mad enough at anyone to have a shouting match.

All Lucas really wanted now was a confirmation that Harry was _not_ going to be expelled. Luckily for him, the answer came two weeks later. 

It had started with the owls flooding into the Great Hall as usual, along with Lucas's daily package of sweets, which he didn't bother to open. Immediately what caught his eye was a thin, long package, which was carried by six large screech owls. They had soared to the Gryffindor table, plopping the package in front of Harry.

"Let's go cut them off at the stairs," Blaise said gleefully.

Lucas gripped his fork tightly so that it was slightly bent. "Fine," he gritted out.

Blaise jumped up and ran out of the hall, pulling Lucas along, who was just about to knock his teeth in. Why did he have to become friends with the biggest bully in Hogwarts?

After a few minutes, Harry and Ron had exited the Great Hall and was heading towards the stairs to go upstairs, carrying the package. Blaise grabbed the package and felt it.

"That's a broomstick," Blaise said gloomily as he threw it back to Harry. He had a mixture of jealousy and resentment on his face, which lightened up Lucas's day considerably. "You'll be for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them."

"That's not any old broomstick," Ron interjected, not being able to resist it, "it's a Nimbus two thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Zabini, a Comet two-sixty?" Lucas watched with amusement as Blaise's face got angrier and angrier. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Blaise retorted back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Before Ron respond with a retort or violence, Professor Flitwick appeared at Lucas's shoulder.

"Not arguing, I hope, boys?" Professor Flitwick squeaked.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," Blaise replied quickly, evidently hoping to get Harry in trouble.

"Yes, yes, that's right," Professor Flitwick exclaimed, beaming happily at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus two thousand, Sir," Harry replied. Lucas snuck away from Blaise to laugh and went to find Fred and George. They hadn't seen each other much and Lucas wasn't about to give up the chance to laugh behind Blaise's back.

"Hey," Lucas said, coming up behind Fred and George, who were in an empty classroom plotting on the best way to get rid of Filch. 

They both whirled around. "Don't do that!" they exclaimed.

Lucas raised an eyebrow. "I would've thought you'd have better reflexes."

"Yeah, yeah," George said, rolling his eyes. "Usually the Bludger gives us a warning. You don't."

Lucas scoffed. "If I was trying to kill you, why would I tell you I'm coming? Besides, it's not _all_ Bludgers," he said.

"You instantly know when someone's there!" Fred protested.

"It's called inborn battle reflexes," Lucas corrected him. "Besides, I'm ADHD."

"Which is?" George asked.

"Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. I'm naturally hyper. And the three of us all have it."

The last time they saw each other, he had snuck out with Fred and George. They were using the Marauders' Map, which even the Mist couldn't fool, so naturally, it showed Lucas Castellan on it, instead of Draco Malfoy. They had asked him what it was all about, and Lucas had explained. He had also accidentally let slip that he was a demigod, which he didn't bother to cover up since he found out they were his half brothers.

Fred frowned. "What's with the happy attitude?"

"What, I can't be happy?" Lucas retorted. "You should've seen Blaise's face at Harry's broomstick."

Fred and George stared at him in surprise. "You're joking," they said simultaneously. 

"Nope."

"Harry has a broomstick?"

Lucas nodded, failing to contain his laughter. "A Nimbus two thousand," he replied. "Blaise tried to get him expelled and instead landed him on the Gryffindor Quidditch team."

Fred and George burst into laughter.

"Amazing!" George declared. 

Lucas nodded. "I'd like to see the look on Flint's face."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maybe it was because of the quest, with Lucas trying to keep an eye on Harry 24/7 and him trying to covertly convince Harry not to go looking for the three-headed dog on top of his classes, but Lucas could hardly realize that he had already been at Hogwarts for two months. Hogwarts was like a second home to him after Camp Half-Blood. The lessons had become much more interesting, too, since they had already covered the basics.

On Halloween morning, Lucas had entered the Great Hall to the smell of baked pumpkins in the corridors, save for the dungeons. It had lightened up his day considerably (he had never celebrated Halloween before), but by the end of the day, it had taken a bad turn. Just his luck. Why couldn't he have a nice day?

The Halloween Feast was nice. It was simply wonderful. A thousand live bats swooped fluttered from the walls and ceiling while more swooped down onto the tables, making the candles placed in the pumpkins shake. The food appeared on the golden plates, just as it had on the Start-of-Term Feast. 

Lucas was just helping himself to some pork chops when Professor Quirrell burst into the Great Hall, his turban crooked and his pale face full of terror. Everyone had their eyes on him as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, collapsed against the table in and gasped, "Troll- in the dungeons- thought you ought to know."

Then he fell to the floor as he fainted.

The noise in the hall became much louder. It took many purple firecrackers from the tip of Dumbledore's wand for the Great Hall to become silent.

"Prefects," he thundered, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Gemma lept up and began herding the Slytherins.

"Follow me! Stick together, first years! Stay close together!"

She led them down to the dungeons and into the Slytherin Common Room. Before long, food was sent to the Slytherin Common Room, and Lucas started eating, trying to ignore Blaise, who was fantasizing about how wonderful it would be if the troll broke into the Gryffindor Tower.

"Blaise, will you please shut up," Lucas hissed after a while. Lucas was worried that Harry and Ron might've gone to fight the troll and the fact that most of his friends were Gryffindors did nothing to help his anxiety.

But, there was nothing he could do about it. He could only wait and hope for the best. Maybe the troll could be taken care of without anyone getting hurt.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: The Quidditch Match**

As November came around, the weather became very cold. The mountains surrounding the school became icy grey and the lake looked like frozen steel. Every morning the ground was covered in a thin sheet of frost. Hagrid could be seen defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch pitch, bundled up in a long, moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves and large beaverskin boots. Lucas would sometimes help him when he had time.

To top it off, the Quidditch season had begun. Lucas found a new way to annoy Blaise- by cheering for Gryffindor. He never liked Slytherin in the first place, and he thoroughly enjoyed pissing Blaise off. Whether it was teasing him, saying his name multiple times or talking to Gryffindors, Lucas enjoyed the look on Blaise's face as it got redder and redder. 

From what Fred and George had told him, Harry had become the Seeker. Oliver Wood, who was the Gryffindor Quidditch team Captain, had wanted to keep it a secret, so naturally, everyone knew. While Lucas kept his promise, Harry had told Ron, who told Hermione, which was overheard by Neville, and, well, by the end of the week, everyone knew. The fact that Blaise knew probably didn't help either.

At least Quidditch would keep Harry's mind off the three-headed dog. Maybe. Chances are it wouldn't. Sometimes it seemed like Harry was a trouble magnet, attracting all sorts of trouble.

The day before the first Quidditch match, Harry, Ron and Hermione were outside in the courtyard. Hermione had become friends with them since they had saved her from the troll on Halloween, and Lucas couldn't complain. The girl needed more friends. Besides, Lucas figured that she could help him keep them alive. 

That day was freezing, like any other day. Hermione had conjured bluebell flames and carried them in a jam jar so she, Harry and Ron could be warm. Lucas was close to them, reading _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing with their backs to it, getting warm when Snape limped over. Lucas watched out of the corner of his eye as he stood closer to hide the flames. Unfortunately, their guilty faces caught Snape's eye, and he limped over, wanting to find something to get them in trouble for.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?" Snape asked Harry.

Harry showed him the book he was holding. It was _Quidditch Through the Ages_. Why he was so obsessed with Quidditch, Lucas would never know.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," Snape snapped. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"Oh, that's just low," Lucas muttered as Snape walked (limped) away. "Making up a rule just to take points away from Gryffindor? Hope his leg falls off."

Over by the bluebell flames, the trio was also thinking among the same thoughts. Harry was complaining about Snape's unfairness, while Ron was wishing that Snape's leg was bothering him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

By the next morning at eleven o'clock, the whole school seemed to be out there. Lucas had undone the Mist and snuck to the Gryffindors, not bothering to even pretend to support the Slytherins. After the courtyard incident, he went and had a conversation with Blaise, where he 'accidentally' let slip that he was supporting Gryffindor. He was also wearing the same thing he wore on the Hogwarts Express to fit in. He went behind Hermione and tapped her on the shoulder. 

"Hey," he greeted her.

She turned in surprise. "Hi," she said. Beside her, Ron was staring at the pitch, waiting for the game to start, so he hadn't seen Lucas. "Is it Draco?"

Lucas grinned. "Yeah. I've decided to support Gryffindor."

"But why?" Hermione asked, confused.

Lucas shrugged. "Never wanted to be in Slytherin anyway," he replied. "Besides, I enjoy pissing off Blaise. You should've seen his face. Priceless."

Hermione sighed. "He's going to murder you."

"Let him try," Lucas said stubbornly.

Hermione laughed in disbelief, and Lucas stared at her in surprise. That was the first time he had heard her laugh.

"What?" she asked at his surprised expression. She crossed her arms. "Just because you never heard me doesn't mean I can't laugh."

Lucas shook his head. "I think it's starting."

And it was. The two teams, Slytherin and Gryffindor had entered the pitch, and the cheers were deafening.

Madam Hooch was the referee. She stood in the middle of the pitch, talking to both teams about something that Lucas couldn't make out. Well, it was more towards the Slytherin team. 

Then, the game started as the teams mounted their brooms. Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her whistle and the fifteen brooms rose high in the air.

"And the Quaffle is immediately taken by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor- what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too-"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

Lucas stifled a chuckle. Lee was commenting on the match, under close supervision from Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting above out there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve- back to Johnson and- no, Slytherin have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes- Flint flying like an eagle up there- he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryfindor Keeper Wood and Gryffindor takes the Quaffle- that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and- OUCH- that must've hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger- Quaffle taken by Slytherin- that's Adrien Pucey speeding off towards the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger- sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which- nice play by the Gryfindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes- she's really flying- dodges a speeding Bludger- the goal posts are ahead- come on, now, Angelina- Keeper Bletchley dives- misses- GRYFFINDOR SCORE!"

Lucas cheered along with the Gryffindors, drowning out the Slytherins' groans.

"Budge up there, move along," a gruff voice said.

"Hagrid!" Hermione exclaimed.

Lucas watched Hermione and Ron squeeze together to make space for Hagrid.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," Hagrid said. He had a large pair of binoculars around his neck. "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope," Ron replied. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet."

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," Hagrid said. He raised his binoculars and peered upwards at the speck that was Harry.

Lucas was glad that Harry did because from what he'd heard from Fred and George, there was a chance that anyone could be killed in the game. They had said that no one at Hogwarts had suffered anything worse than a broken jaw, but Lucas was still on edge.

That was another reason he had cheered for Gryffindor- to keep an eye on Harry. No one would be suspicious of him if he was watching Harry while cheering for Gryffindor.

Harry was gliding above them, squinting around for the Snitch. Lucas assumed that that was their game plan. Either way, he couldn't complain. It made his job easier. He was learning the Cushioning Charm in case Harry fell off his broom, but he hadn't mastered it yet.

When Angelina had scored, Lucas watched as Harry did some loop-the-loops, then resumed searching for the Snitch. Lucas began wondering if he should've learned some Healing magic as the game continued. Once a Bludger came at Harry, and Lucas's heartbeat quickened. Luckily Harry dodged it, and Fred came chasing after it to pelt at Flint.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee was saying. "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys and Chaser Bell and speeds towards the- wait a moment- was that the Snitch?"

A murmur went through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle (Lucas had laughed at this), too busy looking at the flash of gold that had just passed his ear.

And then Harry saw it. He and the Slytherin Seeker, Terence Higgs, hurtled after the Snitch, neck to neck. All the Chasers stopped what they were doing to watch- it seemed that they forgot what they were supposed to do.

Harry was much faster than Higgs. He put on a sudden burst of speed when-

WHAM! A roar of rage came from all around Lucas, and he winced, though he felt the same. Flint had blocked Harry and Harry flew off course, nearly falling off.

"Foul!" the Gryffindors all yelled. Lucas forced a calming breath into his lungs to calm down.

Madam Hooch spoke furiously with Flint, then ordered a free shot at the goal post for Gryffindor. But amidst all that chaos, the Snitch had disappeared.

In the stands, Dean Thomas was yelling, "Send him off, ref! Red card!"

"This isn't football, Dean," Ron told him. "You can't send people off in Quidditch- and what's a red card?"

Hagrid, however, was taking Dean's side, and Lucas could hardly argue.

"They oughta change the rules, Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air."

Lee was finding it near impossible not to be biased.

"So- after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating-"

"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall snarled.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul-"

" _Jordan, I'm warning you_ -"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue to play, Gryffindor still in possession."

It was as Harry dodged another Bludger that disaster struck. His Nimbus two thousand had given a sudden lurch. For a fraction of a second, Lucas thought he was going to fall. He watched as Harry gripped the broomstick with his hands and knees.

Then it happened again. It looked like the broomstick was trying to buck Harry off, as a horse might do to a rider. But that would be ridiculous. Broomsticks did not suddenly decide to buck people off. As far as Lucas was concerned, broomsticks did not have a mind of their own. Lucas watched as Harry tried to turn towards the goalposts, to no avail. Harry's broomstick was now zig-zagging through the air and occasionally making sudden swooshing movements that threatened to launch Harry off of the broom. Lucas silently pulled out his wand, gripping it tightly, keeping his eyes on Harry.

Lee was still commenting, unaware of the problem with Harry's broom, like everyone else.

"Slytherin in possession- Flint with the Quaffle- passes Spinnet- passes Bell- hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose- only joking, Professor- Slytherin score- oh no..."

The Slytherins were cheering loudly. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's Nimbus two thousand was acting strangely. It was carrying Harry farther from the game, convulsing and twitching as it went. Lucas felt like grabbing the megaphone and alerting everyone about Harry's situation.

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," Hagrid mumbled. Lucas closed his eyes. Why was he so dense? It was obvious that Harry had lost control of his broom.

"If I didn' know better," Hagrid continued, "I'd say he'd lost control of his broom... but he can' have..."

Suddenly, people all over the stands gasped and pointed up at Harry. His broom had just rolled over multiple times, with Harry just barely holding on. Then a loud gasp came from the crowd. Harry's broom had given a violent jerk and Harry almost fell off. He was now clutching his broom tightly with one hand. 

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered anxiously.

"Can't have," Hagrid replied, his voice quivering. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic- no kid could do that to a Nimbus two thousand."

At this, Hermione seized the binoculars from Hagrid and hurriedly scanned the stands with it. 

"What are you doing?" Ron moaned, his face grey.

"I knew it," Hermione panted. "Snape- look."

Ron took the binoculars, and Lucas scanned the crowd for Snape. He could faintly see that from the stands opposite of them, Snape had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering non-stop under his breath. A few rows above him, Lucas saw Quirrel doing the same thing, but there was a strange expression- close to psychotic.

"He's doing something- jinxing the broom," Hermione explained.

"What should we do?" Ron asked.

"Leave it to me."

"Her-" Lucas cut himself off seeing as Hermione had already vanished. Lucas was pretty sure that Quirrell was the one that was jinxing the broom. Snape was just performing the counter-jinx. Lucas turned his gaze to Harry. Fred and George tried to pull Harry onto their broom to no avail. The Nimbus two thousand simply lurched higher every time they tried to grab him. Abandoning that tactic, they circled below him, seemingly hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times, unnoticed by anyone else.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron muttered uneasily. Lucas gripped his wand to the point that he was sure it would snap.

Hermione had fought her way to the stands opposite of them and was now rushing along the row behind Snape- she didn't even pause to say sorry when she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Snape, Hermione pulled out her wand and whispered a spell. Bright blue flames (bluebell flames) shot out of her wand and settled on Snape's cloak.

It took approximately thirty seconds for Snape to realize his cloak was set on fire. When he did, he gave a sudden yelp. Knowing that she had done her job, Hermione scooped up the bright blue flames and into a jar. She then scrambled back over to Ron.

It worked perfectly. Above the Quidditch pitch, Harry was able to hoist himself back on his broom.

"Neville, you can look!" Ron told Neville, who had been sobbing into Hagrid's coat for the past five minutes. 

Harry was rushing to the ground when Lucas noticed that he clapped his hand to his mouth as though he was going to be sick. When he reached the ground, he hit the ground on all fours, coughed, and something gold fell into his hands.

"I've got the Snitch!" Harry yelled, waving it above his head, ending the game in complete confusion. Lucas almost laughed.

"he didn't _catch_ it, he nearly _swallowed_ it," Flint howled, as he was doing for the past twenty minutes, but it made no difference. Harry hadn't broken any rules as far as Lucas knew- the rules stated that a game would end as soon as the Seeker caught the Snitch, and Lee was still happily announcing the score- Gryffindor had won by one hundred seventy points to sixty. Lucas's mood quickly dampened, though. He was on the island located in the middle of the Black Lake, where Hermione was telling him her suspicions.

"I tell you, it was Snape," Hermione said. "He was jinxing Harry's broomstick, wouldn't take his eyes off of him."

Lucas sighed. "Look, I know some jinxes require eye contact but did you actually look more closely?" 

This made Hermione stop her rant. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Quirrell was doing the same thing," he explained. "Don't you think he's a bit fishy? He used to teach Muggle Studies. Why would he suddenly show a desire in teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts? Especially since he's terrified of the post? Besides, have you ever asked him about his turban? He claims he got it from an African prince as a thank you gift for driving off a troublesome zombie, but when Nott asked how he had gotten rid of it, he abruptly changed the subject. And you didn't see his expression. I'm sure that he was the one jinxing it."

"Well," Hermione paused and thought about it. "Your reasoning _does_ make sense. Seamus asked the same thing, but he turned pink and talked about the weather. It _is_ suspicious. But Snape despises Harry."

Lucas thought about it. "You're right," he agreed. "He does hate him. Making up a rule just to take points from Gryffindor? That's a sure sign that it's not the House rivalries. How about this- I'll keep an eye on Snape since he's my Head of House, and you can keep an eye on Quirrell. You have a better relationship with the professors than I do."

"I wouldn't say that," Hermione said.

Lucas scoffed. "Please. You're like, the best in our year. I heard you were the only one who was successful in turning a match into a needle."

"Okay," she replied. "There's something else you need to know. On the third corridor-"

"The forbidden one?" Lucas interrupted. "The one with the three-headed dog?"

"Yeah." She looked surprised but didn't question it, which Lucas was fine with. He wasn't sure how he'd explain it to her. "It's called Fluffy," she explained.

Lucas stared at her in disbelief. "It's. Called. Fluffy?" he asked. "Why the Hades is it called Fluffy?"

"Don't know," she replied. She hadn't heard the word Hades. "All we know is that it's guarding something, and there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved."

Lucas nodded. "Got it. So we need to keep an eye on Quirrell and Snape, and we need to find out who Nicolas Flamel is."

"That's the gist of it," she replied.

"Alright. Just don't tell Harry and Ron I'm helping, will you? I'm not sure they'd take too kindly."

As they parted ways, Lucas couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. The dream was going to happen, and there was nothing he could do to prevent it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Christmas**

Before long, Christmas had arrived. One morning in mid-December, the entire school woke to find the grounds covered in multiple feet of gleaming, white powder. There was a thick sheet of ice covering the Black Lake and Fred and George had gotten detention for bewitching snowballs so they bounced on the back of Quirrell's turban. Technically Lucas helped them, but he was more sneaky. The few owls that had managed to brave the stormy weather to deliver post had to be nursed back to full health before they could fly off again.

Nobody could wait until the holidays. While the Slytherin Common room and the Great Hall, had great, roaring fires, the draughty halls had become incredibly icy and harsh winds clattered the classroom windows. The worst was the Potions classroom, where their breaths rose in a cold mist in front of them as they kept close as possible to their hot cauldrons. It made Lucas nostalgic for Camp Half-Blood, where bad weather never penetrated the magical borders unless they wanted it to.

"I do feel sorry," Blaise said, one Potions lesson, as they tried to follow the instructions for their potions as best as they could, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

The Slytherins laughed, but Lucas rolled his eyes and continued measuring his powdered spine of lionfish, resisting the urge to give him a few broken bones. Blaise had become increasingly nasty after the match, and Lucas was finding it harder and harder to restrain himself. Upset that Slytherin had lost the match, he tried to get everyone to laugh by spreading a rumour about how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Harry's position as a Seeker. Then he soon dawned on him that nobody found this funny because they were all in awe about how Harry had managed to stay on his broomstick. So poor, poor Blaise, who was furious and resentful, had gone back to taunting Harry about not having a proper family.

True, Harry wasn't going back home for the holidays. And neither was Lucas. Of course, Blaise didn't know that, but Lucas wasn't planning on telling him. If Harry wasn't going back home, Lucas wasn't. He wasn't going to go back to Camp Half-Blood and unintentionally get Harry killed. Besides, the Weasley twins and their brothers were staying too- their parents, Arthur and Molly Weasley were going to Romania to visit Fred and George's brother, Charlie.

At the end of Potions, Lucas followed Harry and Ron out of the Dungeons, where a ginormous fir tree was taking up the corridor in front of them. Two large feet stuck out behind it and a large puffing sound told Lucas all he needed to know. The person behind the tree was Hagrid.

"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, poking his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm alright," Hagrid replied. "Thanks, Ron."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" Blaise's voice came from behind them, and Lucas sighed. Perfect. Just what he wanted. "Are you trying to earn yourself some extra money, Weasley?" he continued. "Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose- that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron launched himself at Blaise just in time for Snape to see as he came up the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

Ron quickly released his grip on Blaise's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," Hagrid explained, his huge, hairy face popping out from behind the tree. "Zabini was insulting his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," Snape said smoothly. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you." Snape walked off.

Lucas sighed. He couldn't believe he was just about to do this. "Next time you should aim for the stomach."

He pushed past the tree, grinning broadly at Blaise's stunned face and Harry and Ron's surprised expressions as he barged into the library quietly. He had promised to help Hermione find out who Nicolas Flamel is, and he intended to keep that promise. However, it still came with its complications.

First of all, it's very difficult to find someone you don't know anything about. Lucas knew that he was famous- that much he was sure of, but he didn't know what Nicolas Flamel had done to make himself famous. He had already checked _Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century_ , _Notable Magical Names of Our Time, Important Modern Magical Discoveries,_ and _A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry._ Of course, there was also the fact that the library was ginormous- tens of books, thousands of shelves and hundreds of thin rows.

After two full hours of searching to no avail, Lucas decided to go to Professor Binns, who taught History of Magic. Binns would most likely bore him to death, but Lucas couldn't see any other way to get information- he was getting tired of searching endlessly through books.

Lucas knocked on Binns's office door. Lucas was dreading this visit, but he didn't know what else to do. Finally, after a few minutes of waiting, Lucas heard Binns's voice.

"Come in."

Lucas took a deep breath and opened the door. It was nice, and not what Lucas had expected. It had a warm fireplace, with two bookcases and a teacher's desk. Binns was hovering slightly above the chair by the desk.

"Professor?" Lucas asked.

Binns glanced at him. "Mr. Maben."

"Malfoy, Sir," Lucas corrected, though he knew it wouldn't change anything. When it came to names, Binns was almost as bad as Dionysus. "I was wondering if you could tell me about Nicolas Flamel?"

Binns stared at him. "Of course," Binns replied. "Nicolas Flamel is an extremely famous alchemist and the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone, a substance that can create the Elixir of Life and turn any metal into gold. He was born in the year 1326 and attended Beaxbatons Academy of Magic, where he proceeded to become one of the most famous alchemists to ever exist, and he is currently the oldest wizard in history, at 665 years."

Lucas nodded. "Thank you," he told Binns. "It really helped me."

Lucas turned and left Binns's office, making a mental note to inform Hermione of his discovery the next time he saw her. The dog was probably guarding the Philosopher's Stone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

By the time the holidays came, Lucas almost forgot that he was here on a quest, but he couldn't help it. He had the dormitory to himself and the Common room was practically empty. Apparently, everyone in Slytherin had decided to go home for the holidays. Not that Lucas cared. Well, it got a bit lonely at times, but Lucas never liked the Slytherins anyway. Besides, he had set up a lovely surprise for Blaise that Lucas was sure Blaise would (wouldn't) like.

Lucas also took the empty Common room to his advantage. He had charmed the chairs to turn red and gold and changed the banners hanging around the Common room to Gryffindor banners. He turned the green lamps to radiate gold light, giving a red hue to the Common room that blended with the green light that came from the Black Lake. It lifted his mood greatly.

On Christmas Eve, Lucas went to bed that night anticipating the food and fun. While they did gifts at Camp Half-Blood, they never actually celebrated it. What he wasn't expecting, however, was a reasonable size pile of presents at the foot of his bed.

Lucas scrambled out of bed and quickly pulled a pair of jeans on, complete with a green sweater. He didn't like Slytherin, but that didn't mean that green wasn't a nice colour.

Lucas picked up the package on the top. It was wrapped in silver wrapping paper, with owls adorning it. Written very neatly in Ancient Greek was _To Lucas, From Annabeth_. Below it had the words _Hermes Express_ stamped on. Inside it was a book on architecture. _A Field Guide to American Houses: The Definite Guide to Identifying and Understanding America's Domestic Architecture_.

Lucas chuckled. Of course, Annabeth would send a book about architecture. She was obsessed with architecture.

The second one was wrapped in a wrapping paper that changed colours. Black to violet to dark purple to dark blue and so on. Instantly Lucas knew that it was from Hecate. There was a wand in it, with a note wrapped around it, which Willow stole and started playing with.

Lucas laughed. "Give it here, Willow," he said, taking the note from her.

_A spare wand, just in case yours snaps. I made it myself. Red oak and thunderbird tail feather, 11 inches, nice and supple._

The next one contained sweets- a large box filled with cauldron cakes that were sent by Hermione.

There was only one package left. Lucas unwrapped it to find a crystal ball in the package. It glowed silver briefly, then showed a vision of Harry entering a room that held a magnificent mirror with a gold frame.

Lucas glared at the ball. The package said it was from Connor and Travis, but why did they have to send a crystal ball? Lucas knew it was a joke, but that didn't help him calm down.

Lucas huffed. "Finestra," he muttered, pointing his wand at the ball. His wand gave off a blue light and the crystal ball shattered into minuscule pieces.

Lucas shoved his wand into a pocket in his sweater and picked up the extra wand. As soon as it touched his hand, it turned into a rune with the word _Μονομάχος_ carved on it. Duellist.

Lucas's eyes widened. "Cool," he said. "But seriously? Duellist?"

Sighing, Lucas put it in his pocket alongside his other wand and headed towards the Great Hall.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucas had never had such an extravagant dinner in his entire life, much less a Christmas one. There were a hundred big, fat, roast turkeys, huge piles of roast and boiled potatoes, plates of fat chipolatas, huge bowls of buttered peas, silver boats filled to the brim with gravy and cranberry sauce and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the tables. These crackers were nothing like the ones Muggles used, with their tiny plastic toys and feeble paper hats. Lucas watched Harry pull a cracker with Fred (there was only one table because almost no one had stayed for the holidays) and it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them with blue smoke, while a Rear Admiral's hat and several live, white mice came out. Upon the High Table, Dumbledore had changed his pointy wizards' hat for a flowered bonnet and was chuckling heartily at a joke Flitwick had just read to him.

Christmas pudding soon followed the turkey. Percy, who was Fred and George's brother and the Gryffindor Prefect, nearly broke his teeth on a silver Sickle that was embedded in his slice. Lucas watched in disbelief as Hagrid got redder and redder from drinking wine, finally kissing McGonagall on the cheek who blushed and giggled, her top hat crooked.

When Lucas left the table, his pocket was full of things from the crackers, such as one of the live mice that he planned to give Willow later and leprechaun gold.

Lucas spent the rest of the afternoon in the Forbidden Forest, where he met a centaur by the name of Firenze, with who he sparred until he was drenched in sweat. Then he walked a bit closer to the edge of the forest, where he was hoping he would find a rainbow to make an Iris Message.

"Oh Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, accept my offering. Show me, Annabeth Chase, at Camp Half-Blood." Lucas tossed a drachma into the rainbow in front of him.

Immediately, Annabeth's image appeared in the rainbow, along with her surroundings. She was sitting on her bed, reading a book (most likely architecture), in the Athena Cabin. Cabin #6.

Lucas waited, trying to see how long it would take for Annabeth to notice him. Not long. After two minutes, Lucas gave up on waiting.

"Annabeth," Lucas said.

Annabeth instinctively pulled out her knife and nearly disconnected the call. "You scared me!" she scolded him, once she had calmed down.

"Sorry," Lucas apologized. "But, I've been standing here for the last two minutes."

She raised her eyebrows. "Just for two? Wow. How's the quest going?"

Great. It was bad enough that Lucas failed to convince Harry to not go looking for Philosopher's Stone. Now the whole camp knew that he was on a quest.

"Fine," Lucas replied. In his opinion, it really wasn't, but he had managed to keep Harry alive for three months, which Lucas considered an achievement, with all these dangers lurking around Hogwarts.

"What is the quest, anyway?" she asked.

"It's a- well, I have to protect a mortal," Lucas explained. He figured as long as he didn't tell her about the Wizarding World, it'd be fine. Hecate had only told him not to tell anyone of his status. Which he broke in the first two weeks, but...

"A mortal?" Annabeth looked genuinely surprised, which Lucas figured was a first.

"Yeah. A mortal. Not to mention I have to go to this boarding school in Scotland that's shaped like a castle for some weird reason."

Annabeth's jaw dropped. "A castle?" she shrieked. Lucas could practically feel her excitement.

He shook his head. "It's not that great," he said. "It's _freezing_ inside. Not to mention it's _huge_. There are seven floors, in total. I mean, it looks amazing, but there are some bad parts about it. They use quills. And candles. And parchment."

Annabeth gaped at him. "No technology?"

"Nope," Lucas replied. "I mean, I don't really care about the technology part, seeing as it's like sending up a flare to monsters, but why can't they have a heater?"

Annabeth laughed. "You only have a sweater on," she pointed out.

"I was doing laps," Lucas defended. The truth had cast a Hot Air charm on himself before sending her an Iris Message. That and he had been sparring with Firenze.

"Well, I have to go," Annabeth said. "Archery's next."

"Alright," Lucas replied. He swiped his hand through the Iris Message, disconnecting the call.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. At least, by demigod standards. After a dinner full of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifles and Christmas cake, Lucas didn't feel like doing much but reading up on transfiguration. It wasn't his best subject, so it was probably for the best that he took advantage of the empty (but Gryffindor themed) Common room to his advantage.

Then he accidentally fell asleep, which wasn't nice at all. In different circumstances, Lucas might've enjoyed the sleep, but that would be with dreamless sleep. At least this was less eventful than usual.

It was more like a movie. He was alone in a deserted corridor, but he could hear loud footsteps running down the corridor. Occasionally he would see a flap of fabric, showing small feet that clearly belonged to a first year. Lucas didn't know too much about magic artifacts, but if there was one, it would mean that someone was using an invisibility cloak.

A door swung open (possibly opened by the person running) and Lucas entered through the door. Well, technically the dream forced him to enter, but he still entered the room.

The room looked like an abandoned classroom. There were dark shapes of desks and seats stacked against the wall and an upsidedown wastebasket, but there was something set on the wall that was obviously something that didn't belong there.

It was a grand mirror, with an ornate gold frame and clawed feet on the bottom. It had a message carved into the frame around the top: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._ I show not your face, but your heart's desire.

Lucas watched the person become visible as the invisibility cloak slipped off, and Harry inched closer to the mirror.

Lucas willed himself to go towards the mirror, and what he saw surprised him.

He probably shouldn't have been surprised. It was called the Mirror of Erised. Written properly, it would be the Mirror of Desire. But he didn't expect this.

It was their old house in Westport, Connecticut, back when he and Luke still lived with their mother. It was exactly as Lucas remembered it, with the weathered porch, the chipped paint and the hills surrounding it, with a few trees dotted around. The only difference was that there was a picnic table on one of the hills, with his mother's cooking.

Lucas bit his lip. His mother's cooking wasn't the best- mostly consisted of burnt food, but sitting around the table, was himself, Luke, his mother, and his father, Hermes. For once, his mother didn't look like she was about to spew green smoke. He instantly knew that the mirror was showing him his greatest desire- for his family to be whole.

"Mum? Dad?" Harry whispered.

Lucas flinched. Too caught up in the mirror, he had forgotten that Harry was there. It was almost laughable. The idea that he, who was severely ADHD, therefore had stronger battle reflexes than the average demigod, being startled by a mortal, was almost laughable. 

The next few minutes were torture. Lucas didn't know how long he had been watching, watching Harry stare at his reflection and whatever the mirror showed him. Part of it was because he couldn't move. Part of it was because absolutely nothing was happening. After a while, Harry muttered a quick "I'll come back," and left the room, which ended the dream.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next day, Lucas tried to keep a close eye on Harry. He knew that the excitement from seeing his greatest desire would be too much for Harry to handle. Harry would go find the room again. Heck, Lucas would, too, if he knew where it was. 

Lucas shook his head, clearing his head of his thoughts. He stole a glance at the Gryffindor table. Everything seemed normal. Ron was stuffing his face with food as usual, and Harry seemed to be engaged in conversation. Nothing suspicious yet. Except for the fact that Harry wasn't eating, of course.

Lucas finished the last few mouthfuls of his meal, then left the Great Hall. He didn't think the Mirror of Erised would do anything to Harry. It wasn't like it was going to come alive and attack him.

Lucas groaned as he entered the Slytherin Common room. "Oh Styx," he muttered. "I shouldn't have thought that. Number one rule: Don't ever assume you or someone else is safe, and never tempt the fates by thinking it."

He sighed and plopped himself on one of the seats brooding. Only later did he realize that he never checked if Harry was still alive. Styx.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: The Tip**

All in all, Lucas probably shouldn't have woken up his roommates in the cruellest way possible.

Okay, so it wasn't exactly the cruellest way possible, but to a bunch of stuck up Slytherins who couldn't tell a prank apart even if it bounced on their heads and dyed their hair pink, it probably was. Not to Lucas, though. He had experienced much worse from the Stolls.

It wasn't even that bad. At first, he considered pulling one of the Stolls' cruellest wake-up pranks but eventually decided against it. He didn't want to expose himself too early. Instead, he settled with a classic one- to wake up early and yell at the top of his lungs, telling them that they overslept and were late for class. The redecorating he had done during Christmas didn't help either. But, their disgruntled expressions were more than worth it.

Then Blaise retaliated in typical Slytherin fashion- he attacked Neville. Well, Neville wasn't hurt, so technically didn't count as an attack, but Blaise had performed the Leg-Locker Curse.

Lucas was with Blaise at the time, so after making sure nobody was looking, sent a jinx Blaise's way.

"Cantis," Lucas muttered, flicking his wand.

Lucas watched as Blaise started singing "It's Raining Men" at the top of his lungs, attracting some very strange looks.

Lucas laughed. He knew Blaise didn't like to sing, much less sing a song as embarrassing as this. Even Neville was laughing, albeit nervously. Smart. Even if Lucas did get Blaise for his cowardly act, it didn't exactly prove that he was on Neville's side.

Speaking of Neville, Lucas turned around and muttered the counter-curse, and Neville's legs sprang apart.

"Th-thank you," he said shakily.

"No problem," Lucas replied. "Why don't you go report him?"

Neville shook his head jerkily.

Lucas sighed. "He's used to stepping all over people, but that doesn't mean you should lie down and give up."

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Zabini's already done that," Neville choked out.

"You're worth twelve of Blaise," Lucas told him reassuringly. "The Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor, didn't it? It knows what it's doing." Lucas grinned. "Tell you what, I'll teach you to fight the muggle way. Who knows, you might become good at it."

Neville was becoming more at ease with him. "Thanks," he said, "but I'll have to think about it."

Lucas nodded. "Sure," he replied, smiling at him. "While you're considering it, can you pass on a message to Hermione?"

"Sure," he replied.

"Tell her that I've found out who Nicolas Flamel is, and that I'll meet her on the island in the middle of the Black Lake this Friday." Lucas had been trying to find Hermione ever since the holidays ended, to no avail. 

Neville nodded, confused by Lucas's words, but he walked away to find Hermione.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Well?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"What's gotten into you?" Lucas asked.

"What do you mean, 'What's gotten into me'?" she asked.

"I mean," Lucas replied grumpily, "that you seem different. I have been trying to find you ever since the holidays have ended, and I can't find you."

Hermione sighed. "Sorry," she apologized. "I was just busy, I guess. Harry and Ron have been hanging out with me more often, not to mention the homework. It didn't cross my mind that you would've found something until Neville informed me. Speaking of which, since when did you two talk?"

"Ever since Blaise performed the Leg-Locker Curse on him," Lucas muttered angrily, but Hermione heard him.

"He did that?" she shrieked, eyes widening.

"Yeah," Lucas replied moodily. "I offered to teach him Hand to Hand Combat," he added. "We've had three lessons, so far."

"No disaster?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"Of course there was," Lucas replied. "I can't imagine learning something without disaster. Everything has its risks. Besides, weren't we here to discuss Nicolas Flamel?"

Hermione nodded. "Right."

"Well, I asked Binns."

Hermione stared at Lucas. "That was really risky!" she yelled. "What if Snape heard?"

Lucas scoffed. "Please. I doubt anyone, much less Snape, would want to talk to Binns. Besides, I got what I needed. He was born in the year 1326 and attended Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. He created the Philosopher's Stone and is currently the oldest wizard in history, at 665 years old."

"The Philosopher's Stone?" Hermione asked. She was practically bouncing on her feet in excitement. "That must be what Fluffy's guarding!"

Lucas nodded. "I thought so too," he replied, "but we can't be sure unless we break-in."

"You sound rather excited of the idea of stealing whatever Fluffy's guarding," Hermione commented.

"I am!" Lucas said. "I love breaking rules! It's exciting!"

Hermione groaned. "Now I know why the twins love you so much."

Lucas grinned. "Anything else you need to tell me? I mean, besides the fact that Snape's refereeing?"

Hermione looked at him, shocked. "How did you know that?"

"He's my head of house," Lucas deadpanned. "Besides, Fred and George are Beaters on the team."

"Well, I was thinking of learning the Leg-Locker Curse and performing it on Snape if he tries to jinx Harry's broom again."

"Or Quirrell," Lucas reminded her. "I'm all for it. I'm pretty sure I've mastered the Cushioning Charm, so you can take care of Snape and Quirrell and I'll make sure Harry's still alive if he falls."

Hermione nodded, determined. Hopefully, this match wouldn't be Harry's last.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As the match drew closer, Lucas found him becoming more anxious, like the first match. The only difference was that he actually had a valid reason. In the first match, he was nervous because he thought Harry would fall off his broom and die, which was completely stupid. Now he was nervous because either Snape or Quirrell had jinxed Harry's broom during the first match. Just because Harry didn't die during the first match didn't mean that he wouldn't now.

"And, there goes my daily happy thought for the day," Lucas muttered as he helped Fred and George with their latest product, Fever Fudges.

"What do you mean by that?" George questioned.

"Just thinking about the chances Harry'll die tomorrow," Lucas replied glumly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next afternoon, on the day of the match, Lucas was seriously contemplating if anything major would happen. Dumbledore was here, after all. No one would dare to do anything in Dumbledore's presence. Maybe. Lucas couldn't count on that.

So here he was, bringing his wand to the match and standing beside Neville, wearing muggle attire. He was soon joined by Hermione and Ron, both of which had also brought their wands.

"Remember, it's _Locomotor Mortis_ ," Lucas heard Hermione whisper to Ron.

"I _know_ ," Ron snapped. "Don't nag."

Lucas frowned. That wasn't very nice.

Lucas noticed that Snape looked furious, something that Ron also caught on. 

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," he noted. "Look- they're off. Ouch!" 

Someone had poked Ron on the back of his head. It was Blaise.

"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there."

Blaise grinned at his new acquaintances, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Does anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

Ron didn't answer. Snape had just awarded a penalty to Hufflepuff because George had sent a Bludger his way. Lucas bit his tongue to not say something scathing to Blaise, while Hermione was staring squintingly at Harry, who was circling the pitch like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" Blaise asked loudly a few minutes later after Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for absolutely no reason. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money- you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brain."

"You know how _I_ think they choose people for the Slytherin team?" Lucas intervened, sparing Neville from replying. "It's people that are special."

Blaise turned to him. "What makes you say that?" he asked pleased. He had obviously interpreted it as a compliment.

Lucas grinned. "Well," he began, "See, there's Flint, who's got troll blood, and then there's Bole and Derrick, who've got brains, albeit with an IQ of two."

Blaise sneered. "Sticking up for Gryffindors, now, are you? What a disgrace."

Lucas smiled broadly, "Why, thank you!" he told him. He had learned long ago that the easiest way to pretend to be fine when he was hurting from snide comments was to compliment them and say thank you.

He grinned at Blaise's face of disbelief, turning his attention back to the game.

"Ron!" Hermione suddenly called out, sparing Blaise from being attacked by Ron, whose nerves were already stretched to breaking point out of anxiety for Harry's life. "Harry-!"

"What? Where?" Ron yelled.

Harry had gone into a spectacular dive, which got gasps and cheers from the crowd; Hermione stood up, fingers crossed as Harry streaked towards the ground like a bullet.

"You're lucky, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" Blaise said.

Ron snapped. In a blink of an eye, he was on Blaise, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the seats, helping Ron.

Lucas turned his head. Trusting that Harry wasn't in any danger and that Hermione could handle the situation if Harry was, he vaulted himself over the seats, taking on Crabbe. 

Lucas ducked as Crabbe threw the first punch. True, Crabbe was much bigger than him, but Lucas had the skill and speed. He shot forward quickly, sending a blow to Crabbe's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. They fought for a while, Crabbe getting more irritated that he couldn't hit him. Lucas focused completely on the scuffle, not even hearing Hermione's cheer of "Come on, Harry!" 

The game ended just as Lucas landed a blow to Crabbe's neck, knocking him out. The stands erupted. It had to be a record, Lucas was sure no one had ever caught the Snitch this fast before.

Hermione was thrilled. Lucas could practically feel her happiness coming off in waves. "Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game's over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" she shrieked, dancing up and down with joy, hugging Parvati Patil in the front row.

Lucas followed the Gryffindors onto the pitch, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Snape land on the ground, his face white and his lips tight. Dumbledore placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and said something quietly to Harry.

Meanwhile, Snape spat bitterly on the ground nearby, and Lucas suppressed the urge to laugh.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next day, Lucas and Hermione met on the island in the middle of the Black Lake. They had dubbed it their meeting place. Well, Hermione had dubbed it their meeting place. Lucas called it the Ping Pong Island.

"What is it?" Lucas asked Hermione, concerned. She had "accidentally" bumped into him in the hall, efficiently slipping him a note and vanished into the crowd. "Your note didn't say much, just to meet you here- our meeting place."

Hermione took a deep breath and told him about the conversation between Snape and Quirrell that Harry had witnessed.

Lucas stared at her. "So it _is_ the Philosopher's Stone," he said. "But, that conversation doesn't make sense at all."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"This conversation would indicate that Snape is trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone, but it doesn't click," Lucas explained. "But I think Quirrell might be innocent."

Hermione frowned. "Maybe," she replied. "I just hope the Stone isn't gone by next week."

"You and me both," Lucas said dully. He hated his life.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: The Norwegian Ridgeback**

Things seemed to be going well since Hogwarts obviously hadn't fallen apart. Which Lucas assumed it would once the Stone was stolen. It wasn't that he was such a killjoy, he was just preparing for the worst. How else would he have survived all these years?

By now Lucas was willing to look past his fear of Divination, even hoping to get something to tell him what was to come. He was that desperate. What if Snape or Quirrell waited until the Summer to steal the Stone? No student was allowed to stay at Hogwarts during the Summer, and Lucas had no excuse to stay. To everyone else, he was Draco Malfoy, the pampered Pure-Blood. What would he say to Dumbledore? "Sorry to bother you, but I think either Quirrell or Snape is trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone. Can I stay for the Summer?" That sounded ridiculous. He wasn't even supposed to know about the Philosopher's Stone.

Meanwhile, Hermione had taken to taking notes in class to study for the upcoming exams. Lately, their meeting place had become the Library, where they discussed Snape and Quirrell's movements and studied for the exams.

"You take studying very seriously," he noted.

"Of course I do!" she snapped. "You do realize that we have to pass to get into our second year, don't you? I don't suppose you fancy being the only first-year that's twelve? Honestly, I don't know what's gotten into me, I should've started studying ages ago..."

"Calm down!" Lucas replied. "Of course I know, I'm just trying to lighten things up a bit."

The professors seemed to be in the same mindset as Hermione. As they say, "Great minds think alike." They piled so much homework that the Easter holidays weren't as fun or relaxing as the Christmas ones. Not that Lucas minded. Years of hanging out with Annabeth made studying something he would do without question. It was also a good way to keep his mind off things, such as the fate of the Wizarding World. Lucas spent so much time in the Library that he barely slept, and he had to convince Snape to teach him how to make a Wideye Potion.

One sunny afternoon, Lucas was sitting at a table near Harry, Ron and Hermione in the Library. Maybe he was being selfish, but he liked studying with Hermione. Unlike the Slytherins, she was actually smart, and he didn't feel like he was explaining things to a bunch of babies. Okay, so, not all Slytherins were like that. Daphne Greengrass was fine, as well as Pansy Parkinson. Theodore Nott was fine too. But, like the rest of the Slytherins, they were incredibly biased against Muggle-Borns. And thick-headed.

"I don't get why you follow _Harry Potter_ around so much," Theo complained. "I mean, I get you're very popular among Gryffindors, but Potter and Weasley don't even like you. Why bother?"

"Because Hermione's their friend," Lucas told him irritatedly, not looking up from his Transfiguration essay. "You-Know-Who tried to kill Potter when he was one. Who knows what trouble he might attract this year? I'm simply looking out for a friend."

"You sure?" Theo teased.

Catching on, Lucas slapped his arm lightly, finally looking up. "Eleven's a bit too young to start fancying someone, don't you think?" He paused. "Of course, you wouldn't think so, would you? Maybe if you stopped staring at Pansy and actually went up and talked to her, you might find yourself going out with her a few years into the future."

Theo turned red. "I don't fancy her!" he whisper-shouted.

"Whatever," Lucas replied, returning to his essay. "I'm introducing you two soon. Maybe we can have a ball a few years later and you can ask her out," he joked.

Theo opened his mouth to argue, but Lucas heard none of it- he was listening to the trio's conversation with Hagrid.

"Hagrid!" Ron greeted him. "What are you doing in the Library?"

"Jus' lookin'," Hagrid replied in an innocent voice that fooled nobody. He shuffled into view, holding something behind his back. "An' what're you lot up ter?" He suddenly looked suspicious. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," Ron replied. " _And_ , we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Philosopher's St-"

" _Shhhh_!" Hagrid whispered, looking around to see if anyone had heard. Lucas immediately looked down and pretended to be writing his essay. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"

"There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact," Harry interjected, "about what's guarding the Stone asides against Fluffy-"

"SHHHH!" Hagrid said again. "Listen, come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed to ter know. They'll think I've told yeh-"

"See you later, then," Harry said.

Hagrid shuffled off nervously.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" Hermione wondered thoughtfully.

"Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?"

Lucas looked at Theo triumphantly. "Told you," he whispered.

"What?"

"I _told_ you!" he hissed. "He's a trouble magnet."

Theo looked at him suspiciously. "How did you know about this, anyway?"

Lucas sighed. "Theo, I'm friends with Hermione, who just so happens to be friends with Potter and Weasley."

They both flinched as Ron slammed a pile of books onto the trio's table. 

" _Dragons_!" Ron whispered furiously. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: _Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; A Dragon Keeper's Guide._ "

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon," Harry said absentmindedly, "he told me the first time I ever met him."

"But it's against our laws," Ron said, aghast. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden- anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania."

"But there aren't wild dragons in _Britain_?" Harry asked.

Lucas snorted. Why wouldn't there be? Britain seemed like the perfect habitat for dragons: mountainous and chilly. Was it really that surprising?

"Of course there are," Ron replied. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Black. The Ministry of Magic has a job shushing them up, I can tell you. Our lot has to keep putting spells on Muggles who have spotted them, to make them forget."

Lucas turned back to his essay, tuning them out. What on earth was Hagrid doing? Surely he wasn't trying to raise a dragon?

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. With his luck, Hagrid probably was.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"He's mental!" Hermione said furiously.

"Back up," Lucas said. "Who's mental?"

"Hagrid!" she replied. "He- he-"

"He has a dragon," Lucas guessed.

Hermione stared at him. "You were in the Library." It wasn't a question.

"Yes. I was studying with Theo."

"Theodore Nott?"

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Yes. How many other Theodores do you know?"

Hermione laughed. "You just can't stop making friends, can you?"

Lucas grinned. "I'm sure the Sorting Hat would've put me in Hufflepuff if it didn't pick up on my desire to not get a Howler. You know, those red letters that scream their message and burn up?"

Hermione nodded. "I've read about those. They sound nasty."

"Ever the bookworm," he teased. "So, what breed is the dragon?"

"A Norwegian Ridgeback. Draco, Hagrid's lost his mind."

"Anyone who tries to raise a dragon's lost his mind!" Lucas burst out angrily. "He lives in a _wooden_ house! All it takes is one sneeze from the dragon to take his hut down! Where'd he get it anyway?"

"He said he won it from a stranger in a pub while playing cards," Hermione said.

"He's crazy," he decided. "Absolutely insane. Did you find out who else is guarding the Stone, asides from Fluffy?"

Hermione nodded. "There's Sprout, Flitwick, McGonagall, Quirrell and Snape. Dumbledore did something, too."

"Okay, so assuming you three are going to try and face off either Quirrell or Snape when either of them steals the Stone, you need to be prepared," Lucas decided.

"Are you always this paranoid?" Hermione asked.

"I have a friend who loves planning," he told her. "Needless to say, she has successfully corrupted me."

"Obviously," Hermione replied. 

"I think the professors would have something in their area of expertise," Lucas reasoned. "So... Sprout would be Herbology, Flitwick; Charms, McGonagall; Transfiguration, Quirrell; Defence Against the Dark Arts and Snape; Potions."

"There's also Dumbledore," Hermione pointed out.

"Yes, but..." He hesitated. "Dumbledore's more of a wild card. He's like, the greatest wizard alive. Not to mention he taught both Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts before he became Headmaster."

Her eyes widened. "Really?"

"He taught Defence Against the Dark Arts during the time Newt Scamander attended Hogwarts and taught Transfiguration during the time Tom Riddle attended Hogwarts," Lucas confirmed.

"I would've given _anything_ to have gone to Hogwarts back then," Hermione said. "To be taught by Dumbledore? That would have been the best!"

"Agreed."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

So by this point, Lucas was very stressed. He had to protect Harry from being killed, with the added pressure of classes. Now, he had to worry about the Norwegian Ridgeback living in Hagrid's hut.

"Pansy," Lucas addressed her as they were heading to Transfiguration one day.

"Hmm?" she asked.

"A few days ago, you mentioned you had a cousin who's a dragon keeper." He lowered his voice. "How quickly do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow?"

Pansy looked confused, but she still gave him an answer. "Give it a fortnight and it'll be the size of a small house. Why?"

Lucas swore. "What the Hades?"

She stared at him weirdly. "Since when do you have an American accent?"

He decided to play dumb. "What?"

"You swore with an American accent," she replied. "And that swear sounded Muggle."

"You must have been hearing things," he insisted. "I don't have an American accent, and despite how friendly I am to Muggle-borns, I don't know how to swear with Muggle words."

She shrugged. "Whatever."

All of a sudden, they could hear the sound of Ron and Hermione arguing. Some parts Lucas wasn't able to discern, as their volume level would constantly change from loud to quiet, but he had a good idea based on the snippets of the argument that he had heard. The Norwegian Ridgeback was hatching, Ron wanted to see it, but Hermione refused to skive off Herbology.

Pansy sighed as they entered the classroom. "Such a lovely day, ruined by such a temperamental couple."

Lucas nearly choked on his saliva. "What?" he asked. "Pansy, they're too young to be a couple."

"Oh, they will be," she responded. "You just wait."

He opened his mouth to respond, but just then, McGonagall started the lesson. He closed his mouth and listened to McGonagall begin her lecture.

In reality, he was only half-listening to McGonagall. Not that anyone noticed. Lucas was good at partially tuning out a lecture while acting like he was listening. It was especially helpful when he had to listen to a monster's monologue while devising a plan. Usually, it was Annabeth who came up with the plan, but Lucas wasn't completely helpless. He could very well devise a plan on the fly.

When the sounded at the end of Transfiguration, he got up and quickly left the classroom, hoping to catch Blaise before he saw the dragon. Blaise had been listening to Ron and Hermione's argument, and Lucas was pretty sure that Blaise would go and try to see it. Most likely through the window. 

Lucas followed Blaise, careful to stay out of sight. The relationship between Blaise and him had become increasingly strained over the school year. If he could stop Blaise, he would, but it wouldn't be wise for him to be seen. No sense in allowing Blaise to see him.

He trudged down the hill towards Hagrid's hut swiftly, revelling in the exercise that it brought him. He hadn't had too much exercise during his time here. 

By the time he had reached Hagrid's hut, Blaise was already peeking through the curtains that were drawn tight over the windows.

"Of course he's already here," Lucas grumbled angrily as he stomped towards Blaise. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

"Like you'd understand," Blaise sneered, turning around.

"No, I think I understand just fine," he replied. "You are a big bullying prat who takes pleasure in tormenting people and making their lives miserable. I'm not a disgrace to Slytherin, you are. Being a Slytherin doesn't permit bullying."

"What's done is done," Blaise pointed out. "I've seen the dragon and you can piss off, thank you very much." He pushed past Lucas and ran up the hill, towards the castle.

"Well, that's one thing he's good at," Lucas commented. "Being a coward and not having the guts to actually confront me."

"What are _you_ doing here?" someone demanded.

"Ron!" Hermione chastised as Lucas spun around. "Sorry, Draco, I don't know what's gotten into him-"

"He's always been like this towards me," he replied nonchalantly. "You've never noticed? I even hinted at it."

"You never-" She cut herself off. "You said they wouldn't take too kindly to you helping us find out who Flamel is, then left! How was that supposed to tell me that they hated your guts?"

"You're talking to him?" Harry asked, evidently pissed.

"Oh, please!" Hermione said. "It's only you two who don't like him! He's frankly quite nice and funny! Every professor likes him, he's friends with Fred and George, Neville, Lee Jordan, as well as me. And don't you dare say I'm fraternizing with the enemy Ron," she added at the look on Ron's face, "we've been friends since classes started."

Ron looked like he was about to explode, but Harry steered him away before he could say anything scathing to Hermione.

"At least he's more reasonable," Lucas muttered.

"Why does Ron hate you so much?" Hermione blurted out.

He raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?" he asked. "My father, of course. He was a Death Eater. But anyone with an ounce of logic in them would realize that I'm not my father. Something that your friend, fails to grasp."

Hermione frowned. "Maybe I can knock some sense into him," she suggested.

"You could try," Lucas agreed, "but you shouldn't waste your time on me. I'm a Slytherin, you're a Gryffindor. We aren't meant to be friends." There was a tone of bitterness in his voice.

"Yet you've been tearing down the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor ever since you got sorted into Slytherin," she pointed out.

"Fair enough."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

During the next week, something about Blaise seemed to give Lucas a feeling of dread. Maybe it was the smile on his face, maybe it was what he had said to him. He didn't know. There was just something that gave him a feeling of dread.

During the time Lucas spent with Hagrid, he tried to convince him to let the dragon go.

"Beats me how yeh even know," he replied gruffly.

"Please." Lucas rolled his eyes. "Blaise _saw_ him. He was even gloating about it. Give it a fortnight and Norbert'll be as big as your hut. Even if none of the professors find out, Blaise could go to Dumbledore at any time."

"Yeh know, that's exactly what Harry said," Hagrid commented.

"Don't try to change the topic, it's not going to work," Lucas said sharply. "I'm not asking you to set it into the wild, I know he'll die." He paused as a thought came to him. "I might be able to call in a favour with some friends."

"Alright," Hagrid agreed. "Jus' give me an answer when yeh've made contact wi' them."

The "friends" in question were the Hunters of Artemis. He wasn't on the best terms with them, but Artemis was the best option as of now. She was the Goddess of the Wild, so sending Norbert to her was his best shot.

But first, he had to send an Iris Message to Hecate. He wasn't sure if the Hunters of Artemis knew about the Wizarding World, but he was about 90% sure that they knew. Artemis wasn't picky when it came to allowing people into the Hunt. Her only requirements were that they were female and that they swore to celibacy.

"Oh, Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, accept my offering. Show me Hecate, Goddess of the Mist."

Hecate slowly appeared, as well as her surroundings. 

"Lucas," she greeted him. "To what do I owe this Iris Message?"

"Lady Hecate." Lucas found that being respectful often came a long way with gods. "You know the gamekeeper, Hagrid?"

"Yes," she replied.

He sighed. "He has a dragon," he explained. "A Norwegian Ridgeback, to be exact."

"Where'd he get it?" Hecate inquired.

"According to Hermione? He won it off a stranger in a pub. They were playing cards. And it's times like this that make me wonder if the mortal adults are as responsible as they say they are."

Hecate nodded. "You want me to do something about the dragon?"

"Can Artemis take it?" Lucas asked. He decided not to sugarcoat it. "I mean, she's allowed, right? No Ancient Laws are forbidding it?"

"No Ancient Laws are forbidding it," she replied, "but whether she wants to take it or not, is an entirely different story."

"Can you ask her?" he requested.

"Ναι. I can," she confirmed. "I'll owl you when I've got an answer."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The following week dragged by impossibly slow. Lucas had never been good at patience, even when he was waiting for a letter from a goddess. On Wednesday night, had anyone came down to the Slytherin common room, they would've found Lucas sitting in one of the seats near the fire, long after everyone had gone to bed. It had just turned midnight when a letter manifested on a nearby table.

He unfolded the sheet of parchment to read the note.

_Dear Lucas,_

_How are you doing? I hope nothing too serious has happened yet. Artemis says she'll take the dragon, but unfortunately, Apollo's got into a bit of trouble with Zeus and she needs to reason with him._

_Can you take the dragon to the edge of the Forbidden Forest at midnight on Saturday? There'll be a huntress waiting for you there._

_Sincerely,  
Hecate_

Lucas breathed a sigh of relief. That was that. He would have to borrow the Mauraders' Map, and he'd have to rely on his ability to sneak around. Anything to get rid of Norbert.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next few days made Lucas very nervous. He couldn't help but doubt the plan. What if Blaise found out? What if a professor caught him? What if _Filch_ caught him? In the end, it got to the point where he had to go to the Hospital Wing to get a Calming Draught.

Things took a worse turn when he found _Blaise_ , of all people, in the Hospital Wing gloating over Ron.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Blaise asked.

"I need a Calming Draught," Lucas replied. "I think the upcoming exams are getting to me."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

By Thursday night, Lucas was absolutely freaking out. There was no denying it. The plan was as good as it could be, but the doubts were still there.

He found Fang, Hagrid's boarhound sitting outside with a bandaged tail when he went in to talk to Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to him.

"I won't let you in," he panted. "Norbert's at a tricky stage- nothin' I can't handle."

When Lucas informed him about his success, his eyes watered, or maybe it was because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.

"Aargh! It's alright, he only got my boot- jus' playin'- he's only a baby, after all."

Norbert banged his tail on the wall, making the windows rattle, and Lucas headed back to the castle, feeling as though Saturday couldn't possibly come faster.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He would've felt sorry for Hagrid, come Saturday night, had he not been too busy fretting. It was a very dark, cloudy night. Lucas had been a tad bit late coming to Hagrid's Hut because Peeves was playing tennis in the Entrance Hall, and Lucas didn't feel like convincing Peeves not to tell anyone where he'd gone.

Norbert was packed and ready in a large crate.

"He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey," Hagrid explained in a muffled voice. "An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."

From inside the crate, a ripping noise sounded through the air. It sounded as though teddy had just gotten its head violently ripped off.

"Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid wailed, as Lucas lifted the crate with a grunt. "Mummy will never forget you!"

How he managed to get to the Forest, he would never know. The rough edge dug into his fingers and palms; sweat made his grip slide. Midnight slipped closer as he got to the edge of the Forest.

"Almost there," he told himself.

At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, a huntress was waiting for him. It would've been impossible to miss her. She was clad in a silver parka, camo pants and black combat boots. Her brown hair was tied into a braid and she had a quiver and bow slung over her back.

"Right," she said. "The dragon's in there?"

"Yep," Lucas replied.

She stuck out her hand. "Forgot to introduce myself. Layla Lupin."

Lucas set the crate on the ground on shook her hand. "Lucas Castellan. How are you getting it to Artemis?"

"I'll apparate," she replied. "I may have left in the middle of my sixth year at Hogwarts, but I've had plenty of time to catch up."

"Alright. A quick warning- he's a bit violent."

Layla laughed. "Judging from the sound it's making and your description of violent, it's a girl."

"Are the females more violent, or something?" Lucas asked.

"Yep." She started bouncing up and down. "I'm going to try and convince Lady Artemis to let me keep her. I just love animals! What name did this Hagrid give her?"

"Norbert," he replied. "But I suppose you'll have to rename her. I mean, Norbert's a male name."

"I'll name her Norberta," Layla decided. "A beautiful name for a beautiful dragon."

Lucas made a choking noise, and she gave him a look.

"Oi, shut it!" she demanded. "You just don't understand the beauty of dragons! They're beautiful!"

Lucas opened his mouth. "Maybe an-" The sound of a heavy creature hitting the ground was heard, and a weak neigh echoed through the air.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: The Slaying of an Innocent Creature**

"Come on," Layla told Lucas. She produced a silvery camouflage tarp out of nowhere and she covered the crate with it. She unsheathed a silver hunting knife. "Take out your wand," she ordered. "Celestial Bronze weapons will draw attention."

Lucas nodded and drew his wand. Quirrell's class had been absolute rubbish so far, but the tip of his wand was sharp. He could easily take out someone's eye with it if he wanted to.

They headed into the forest to where the crash had occurred, trying to stay silent and get there quickly at the same time. Layla was much more successful- leaping gracefully over tree roots and dodging tree branches. It suddenly occurred to Lucas that Layla could see in the dark.

After a while, Lucas's breath started coming in short pants. He had a feeling that something terrible had happened.

He nearly crashed into Layla when she stopped, and he could immediately see why she had stopped. There, laying on the ground in front of them, was a unicorn corpse: it glowed bright white, with its legs stuck out at odd angles and its pearly white mane was spread on the dark leaves.

But that wasn't the worst part. A dark, hooded figure was hunched over the body, drinking blood from a wound on the unicorn's side. It was disgusting, yet fascinating at the same time. Lucas stared at the figure in horror while Layla made a sobbing sound.

The hooded figure heard her. It raised its head and looked straight at them, unicorn blood dripping from its mouth. And... it bolted.

For a second there, Lucas just stared in shock. He could barely believe his eyes. 

He turned to Layla. "Is it just me, or did that thing just run away?"

"You saw correctly," she replied. "But... who would do such a thing? To slay a unicorn? It's just-" she choked on her words. "-cruel. But the motive?"

Lucas quickly glanced around and headed towards the body, inspecting the body. "Maybe the blood?" he suggested. "The hooded figure was drinking its blood. What properties does unicorn blood have?"

"I honestly don't know," Layla admitted. "I've never read of unicorn blood being anything special. I mean, I know Re'em blood gives the drinker superhuman strength for a while, but I don't know anything about unicorn blood. I always assumed that it was just blood, nothing special."

There was the sound of something galloping towards them.

"I don't suppose they teach that to you at Hogwarts, do they?" someone asked softly.

Lucas turned around. "Firenze," he greeted him.

Layla looked at them questioningly.

"I met him at around Christmas," he explained. "He's nice, though I can't compare him to Chiron."

Firenze nodded. "Certainly not," he agreed. "Chiron is... extraordinary. And he's much older."

"From around the time, the Titans ruled," Layla informed them. "That's a long time. At least two millennia. So, unicorn blood?"

"Right," Firenze said. "You've never heard of unicorn blood having magical properties, or used it in potions because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn. Only someone with nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would do such a horrid thing. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you're an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenceless to keep you alive and you will have a half-life, a cursed life from the moment the blood touches your lips."

"But isn't death better?" Lucas asked. "If you're going to be cursed forever, death seems like a luxury, doesn't it?"

"Unless you have something to counter the curse," Layla realized. "Bloody hell! What could counter it?"

"The Elixer of Life?" Lucas suggested, looking at Firenze.

"It would," Firenze agreed. "And it would be the most logical choice, as the Philosopher's Stone resides within Hogwarts. And can you guess, who has desperately clung to life, trying to become immortal?"

Lucas gulped. He didn't want to believe it, but there was only one person who filled all those requirements. As the wind rustled the leaves, he could almost hear Hecate's voice: "Riddle's body was destroyed, but his soul is still out there, and he will want to kill Harry."

"The Dark Lord," Lucas realized.

"Who?" Layla asked.

He stared at her. "Don't tell me you've never heard of him. You-Know-Who? Also known as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-But-Has-Too-Many-Names?"

She snorted. "My gods," she said. "I forgot who he was. It must be the age."

Lucas snorted. "I doubt it. You must be out of touch with the Wizarding World."

She looked thoroughly offended. "Stop it! Sorry Firenze," she told him, "if it seems like we're ignoring you."

"No problem," Firenze replied. "I could give you a ride back to the castle."

"Oh, no, thank you," Layla said. "It's fine. Besides, aren't the herd here very against letting humans ride on your species?"

"Yes," he replied. "I'll be leaving now." He galloped away in a cloud of dust.

"So..." Lucas shifted on his feet. "We should probably be heading back."

"Yes, I should think so." Layla grinned. "I'm sure Norberta's very bored by now."

"We should've brought her with us," he muttered as they headed back. "She probably could've blowtorched that person for us."

"Then he or she would be dead," Layla pointed out.

"At least we would've known who they were," Lucas retorted.

She sighed. "True. Can't argue with that. Do you have any idea about who the person was?"

"I have my suspicions," he told her. "Two candidates who're fishy. Snape and Quirrell."

Layla stared at him. "I don't know this Quirrell you're talking about, but Snape? You don't mean Severus Snape, do you?"

"I do," he replied. "Do you know him?"

"Gods of Olympus, yes," she said. "We went to Hogwarts around the same time. But he was a year older than me- in my brother's year."

"Was he always that greasy?" he wondered out loud.

"Unfortunately, yes." She flipped her braid over her shoulder. "He looked better as a child, though. I suppose he's one of those people who look worse as they age. I can't believe he thought he had a chance with Lily. I read the Daily Prophet," she informed him, seeing his questioning look.

Lucas shook his head. "I should've guessed." He paused, Layla's words registering in his head. "Wait. Lily? Do you mean Lily Potter? Née Evans? Harry Potter's mom?"

"Yep." Layla looked positively delighted at the mention of her. "She was always nice to me, even after she found out Remus was-" She cut herself off, looking thoroughly embarrassed. "I mean, she was a great friend. I spent an entire month raging after I found out she had died. Zoe had to talk some sense into me."

"Zoe... the lieutenant?" he asked.

"That's the one." She lept over a tree branch as Hogwarts came into view. "Ahh, there's the edge! I thought we'd never arrive."

He laughed. "I like your sense of humour." He brushed his hand on the silvery cloth covering the crate were Norberta resided. "For your sake, I hope Norberta behaves. I wouldn't want the only Hunter of Artemis who's friendly with me to have her death by a dragon."

She shook her head, her green eyes flashing with amusement. She played with an arrow for a bit before sliding it back into her quiver.

"She tries to kill me, I'll have her pinned before long," she promised him. "Don't worry. I won't die from something as silly as a baby dragon."

"A _female_ baby dragon," he reminded her. As if to prove his point, Norberta slammed her head against the crate.

Layla eyed the crate nervously.

"I'm starting to reconsider apparating," she announced. "I might splinch her."

"Splinch?" Lucas asked.

"Leave some part of myself or her behind," she clarified. "And by how restless she is, we're going to splinch if I apparate us back to the States."

He nodded. "That makes-"

"But that doesn't mean I'm not going to try!" she interrupted, bouncing on her toes. She pulled out her wand. "You should go back before anyone realizes you're gone. It's one in the morning, you know."

"Alright," Lucas agreed. "Wouldn't want to get a detention. Stay safe."

Layla smiled slyly. "Oh, I will," she promised.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Where were you?" Blaise asked him as he entered the Slytherin common room. Lucas had tried to evade Blaise the entire day, to no avail. Blaise always seemed to find him whenever he was in the Dungeons.

"What do you mean?" Lucas asked him innocently.

"I'm not stupid, you know," he snarled. 

Lucas looked at him in mock surprise. "Really?" he asked. "That's news to me."

By now everyone was watching them. It was no secret in Slytherin that Blaise and Lucas hated each other's guts. Some would say that their fights were exciting, entertaining, even. There also tended to be cheering, which usually prompted Lucas to bring it to another level, regardless of who was cheering for who.

Daphne decided to join in. "I don't get it, either," she said cheerfully. "He's been in Hogwarts the entire time."

Lucas smirked at Blaise's red face, and Theo, along with Pansy, chortled.

"Losing a couple of brain cells, are you now?" Lucas said in a sing-song voice. "Think everyone will still like you after they see how much of an idiot you are? Though, I suppose, your looks'll save you. After all, you can't afford to be smart if you're concentrating on your looks all the time. Guess we now all know who the Evil Queen was reborn as."

Most of the Slytherins looked confused, but some of the Half-Bloods, including Daphne, burst into laughter. Lucas shut the book he was reading and left the common room, followed shortly after by Daphne.

"Merlin's beard," she said, choking on laughter once they had gotten outside of the castle. "The Evil Queen? Best comparison ever!"

"It is, isn't it?" he agreed. "They're both incredibly vain and cunning."

"Let's not forget that you covertly called him a girl," she said.

"Anyone who spends that much time on looks is a girl," he declared. "Er, no offence."

"None taken." She tied her blonde hair up in a ponytail. "Someone has to put him in his place. I'm just glad it's you. Nobody can compare to you when it comes to a duel with words."

Lucas snorted. He didn't know where his cheekiness came from. It just came. "Well, I'm glad _someone_ appreciates it."

"And I do," she agreed. "Wholeheartedly. It makes you fun to be around with."

"I think Fred and George are rubbing off me," Lucas said.

"I hope not," she said, shuddering. "I don't want to imagine the amount of trouble you could stir up."

"I already stir up enough trouble without them," he said, grinning broadly. "Who do you think gave our common room a makeover?"

She stared at him in horror. "That was you?" she shrieked.

"Yep. You know what? I need to go to the library."

He left her, soon finding himself in front of the entrance to the library. Firenze hadn't disclosed too much on unicorn blood, and Lucas intended to find out more, and the library was the best place.

Once he entered, he went straight to Madam Pince. Unicorn blood wasn't a particularly cheery topic, but seeing as he had no idea where to start, asking her would speed up the process significantly.

"Er, Madam Pince?" he asked her tentatively.

"Yes?" She gave him a stern look, silently warning him to not disrespect any of the library's books.

"Er, I was just wondering if there were any books in here that explain the properties of unicorn blood." He tried to keep calm. If Madam Pince thought this was suspicious, he wouldn't last a chance. "I heard someone mention it," he explained, "and I wanted to know more about it."

"In that case, you would have to check out the Restricted Section," she said, looking at him suspiciously. "More specifically, _Moste Potente Potions_. It gives an overview of the nastier potion ingredients, as well as how to make those nastier potions. However, to access the Restricted Section, you will need a signed note from a professor, something you don't have."

Lucas sighed. "Alright," he said. "Thank you for your help."

Madam Pince stared at him strangely. She looked like she was thinking something over.

"I'll allow you to read it," she said slowly, "but you are not to read anything else but the part on unicorn blood, and you will read it here, under my watch."

Lucas immediately brightened. "Thank you," he told her sincerely.

She nodded and bustled over to the Restricted Section, plucking the book from the shelf and handing it to him.

"Page twelve," she informed him.

He nodded and headed to a nearby table, sitting down and flipping the book open to page twelve. There, at the top, were the words "Unicorn Blood" written in fancy print. Below it was an explanation and on page thirteen, there was a gruesome picture of a slain unicorn, with its blood pouring down its side at an alarming rate.

"I can see why it's in the Restricted Section," he muttered. Returning his attention to the passage, he began to read.

_The use of unicorn blood is a very inhumane thing to do, as to gather a unicorn's blood, the slaying of a unicorn is required. It is only used by the most desperate, the ones that have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Only one potion in existence requires unicorn blood._

_Unicorn blood, when used, has very severe consequences. The slaying of a unicorn alone will render you weak for a few days, giving you a pale complexion and lowering your immune system. Drinking unicorn blood creates even worse consequences._

_From the moment the blood touches your lips, a curse is activated. It is considered the most dangerous and ruthless curse to ever exist. It will save you even if you're an inch from death, but with a terrible consequence. You will have a cursed life, a half-life from the moment the blood goes into your mouth. It will not only affect you, but it will affect your descendants as it is a blood malediction, often striking when you least expect it. Eventually, those cursed will meet their end in a rather gruesome way._

Lucas shut the book and made his way to the Restricted Section, placing the book back on the shelf. There was more, but he had enough information for a lifetime. He didn't want to imagine what kind of gruesome death that those cursed could meet.

"At least there's a guaranteed chance that the Dark Lord'll die," he told himself. "I just don't know when. Hopefully by the end of this year."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: Gryffindor Victory**

The next few weeks flew by very quickly. Lucas would never remember how he had managed to stumble through the exams when he was half expecting the professor to turn into a monster, like what had happened at his last school. He could scarcely believe that he had managed to go by the entire school year without blowing up the school or getting expelled (usually they were tied to one another).

The temperature was scorching hot, especially in the large classroom where their written exams took place. For the exams, they had been given new quills that were charmed with an Anti-Cheating spell.

They had practical exams, as well. Lucas supposed that to learn magic, one couldn't just rely on theory. Flitwick called them into the classroom one by one to try and see if they could make a pineapple tap-dance across his desk. McGonagall's exam, however, was for them to turn a mouse into a snuffbox- points were given for how pretty and detailed the snuffbox was, while points were taken if it had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they wracked their brain to try and remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion.

Lucas tried to do his best, but the truth was, he was very nervous. Not about the exams, but Harry. Lately, his dreams had been shedding light on what would happen under the trapdoor in the third corridor, which Lucas hadn't asked for. It was very annoying and made Lucas extremely tired.

Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of writing down answers about batty old wizards who invented self-stirring cauldrons and they could relax, at least until a week later, when their exam results came out.

"History of Magic is literally the most boring subject to ever exist," Theo complained.

Lucas nodded in agreement. "Who flipping cares about who invented what? I mean, if a different professor was teaching History of Magic, it might be more entertaining. Binns just reads off his notes. I learned more from 'A History of Magic' than I did from him."

"That actually works?" Pansy asked.

"Yep," he replied. "Binns always tells us what we're learning each class. All I have to do is to jot down the topic and read up."

"If I remember correctly, you're ADHD," Daphne said. "I'm surprised you haven't walked out yet."

"I can't say it hasn't crossed my mind," he agreed. "Why hasn't anyone replaced Binns?"

Theo gave him a look. "You're the one whose father is the chairman of the Board of Governors!"

"Well, I don't pay attention to those kinds of things!" Lucas shot back. The truth was that he had never interacted with the Malfoys yet, so he couldn't have possibly known that Lucius Malfoy was on the Board of Governors. Oh boy. He was not looking forward to meeting the Malfoys at all.

They bickered all the way to, for some reason, the Quidditch Pitch, where Fred and George were dive-bombing each other on their brooms.

Daphne laughed as George accidentally fell off his broom. "I can see why they're so likeable," she commented.

"They can be unbearable at times," Lucas warned her. "And it's annoying when they try to convince you that George's Fred and Fred's George."

Pansy shuddered. "I don't fancy having to deal with that."

He shrugged. "They don't trick me," he said. "Besides, it _is_ a bit funny."

"Hi!" Fred and George had flown to the stands and hopped off their brooms.

"So these are the lovely Slytherins who aren't like the rest of their house!" Fred exclaimed.

"I think they need a gift!" George declared. He handed Theo a Puking Pastille.

"Don't take it," Lucas advised him.

Fred gasped. "Draco! I'm offended-"

"-that you think-"

"-we're trying-"

"-to prank your friends," George finished.

"I don't think that," Lucas said. "I _know_ you're trying to prank them. There's a difference."

Fred gasped once again and put a hand over his heart. "You wound me!"

George nodded, pretending to wipe away a stray tear. "He's betrayed us," he said dramatically. "Ow!" he yelped. Lucas had just stepped on his foot.

"What?" Lucas gave him an innocent expression.

"You stepped on my foot!"

Daphne laughed and was soon joined by the rest of them. Even George had joined in. Eventually, Theo ate the Puking Pastille (because, of course, he underestimated the twins), and Lucas had to force the other end of the chew into Theo's mouth.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The end-of-year feast had gone with a surprising turn. Not that Lucas cared. In his opinion, it made for a fun end to the school year. The Great Hall was decked out in silver and green, to signify Slytherin's winning of the House Cup for the seventh year in a row. Behind the High Table, there was an enormous banner with a Slytherin serpent on it.

When Harry entered the Great Hall, there was a collective hush and everyone started chatting audibly. Lucas could see that people throughout the hall were standing up to try and get a good look at him.

Fortunately for him, Dumbledore soon came into the Great Hall, wearing his long robes and his half-moon spectacles, his pointy wizard's hat topped on his head. Everyone slowly quieted.

"Another year gone!" he announced happily. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully, your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts...

"Now, as I understand it, the House Cup here needs awarding and the points stand thus: in fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."

Loud cheering erupted from around Lucas. Some Slytherins had jumped up and started stomping about and Blaise was banging his goblet on the table. Lucas simply clapped.

"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," Dumbledore congratulated them. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

Everyone quieted down. The Slytherins' smiles faded a bit.

"Ahem," he said. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes...

"First- to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

The cheers from Gryffindors nearly blew off the ceiling; the stars above them seemed to tremble. Percy could be heard telling the other Gryffindor prefects, "My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall's giant chess set!"

Eventually, the room quieted down again.

"Second- to Miss Hermione Granger... for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Hermione buried her head in her arms; Lucas suspected that she had burst into tears and was furiously blushing. Gryffindors were ecstatic- Gryffindor was up by a hundred points.

"Third- to Mr. Harry Potter..." The Great Hall was very quiet. "... For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

The Gryffindor table exploded with sound. Those who could do the math while yelling themselves dry knew that Gryffindor now had four hundred seventy-two points- they were tied with Slytherin.

Dumbledore held out his hand and the hall quieted once more.

"There are all kinds of courage," Dumbledore began, smiling. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I, therefore, award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

If Lucas thought the cheering before was loud, it was nothing compared to this. If someone was standing outside the Great Hall, they might've thought that an explosion had taken place in the hall. Neville disappeared under a pile of people hugging him, white with shock. When he resurfaced, Lucas grinned at him and clapped loudly, happy for his friend. He knew Neville had never won so much as a point for Gryffindor before. 

"Which means," Dumbledore called out over the applause- even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were celebrating the defeat of Slytherin; Lucas remained the only Slytherin to clap alongside them, "we need a little change of decoration."

He clapped his hands. The green became scarlet and the silver became gold immediately; the huge Slytherin serpent disappeared and was replaced with a large, towering lion. Snape shook McGonagall's hand with a forced smile and Lucas could see Dumbledore clapping politely, looking at Neville with something that looked like admiration.

This evening might've been horrible for the Slytherins, but not to Lucas. The House Cup didn't matter to Lucas. Besides, most of his friends were in Gryffindor. He was happy for them. Compared to his other memories, this might not've been the best evening in his life, but it was, without a doubt, one he would never forget.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucas honestly forgot that they were still waiting for exam results. In his defence, he had other things on his mind. But they did come. Unsurprisingly, he passed with good marks- he suspected it was to do with the studying that Hermione forced him to do, as well as the late-night studying he did on his own. Nobody had failed, which was a relief to Lucas, but it was also a shame. He was glad his friends had passed, but he was secretly hoping that some of the Slytherins wouldn't. He wasn't one to judge on the house, but some of the Slytherins were a handful.

Then, their wardrobes were empty, their trunks full, Lucas had found Willow in a corridor being friendly to Mrs. Norris, for some reason; notes were passed to each student, warning them to not perform magic over the summer. Hagrid was there to take them back over the Black Lake.

"What're you going to do over the summer?" Lucas asked out of the blue. He suspected that his Slytherin friends weren't too happy about losing the House Cup.

"I haven't really thought about it," Theo said. 

"Mum's taking me to Cyprus," Daphne informed them. "It's in the Mediterranean. I invited Pansy."

"That sounds nice," Lucas commented.

"What are you going to do?" Pansy asked.

"I'm going to the States," he replied. It was true, he was going to go to Camp Half-Blood and it was located in the States.

"Interesting." Theo looked miserable. "Better than stuck at home, I suppose."

"Exploding Snap, anyone?" Pansy asked suddenly. It seemed she had also picked up on Theo's unhappiness.

"Sure!" Daphne exclaimed. She took out a pack of cards and shuffled them, then passing them around.

They played for a bit, chatting and joking around; Lucas smiled. Yes, this was a great year. Harry was alive and he hadn't gotten expelled; most importantly, he had friends- friends who he knew he could count on, whether it was a joke or a secret.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Dobby**

Lucas read the letter for what seemed like the hundredth time. The note, which had been rolled up tightly when it arrived this morning, had now been read so many times, it had become completely flat. It had said:

_Dear Lucas,  
_

_How are you? Is your quest going well? I heard from Annabeth that you're at Hogwarts. How exciting! Of course, she didn't actually tell me the name, seeing as you didn't tell her, but it was kind of obvious. After all, there's only one school in Scotland that's a castle._

_How was your first year at Hogwarts? I hope you haven't been expelled yet. Although it would be incredibly hard to get yourself expelled. The castle is reinforced by magic so it stays up, not to mention the layers of wards surrounding the grounds._

_Guess what? I'm coming to Hogwarts! I just got my Acceptance Letter yesterday! Lady Hecate personally delivered it to me, actually. She said that I was joining you on the quest. It seems unlikely, but I'm hoping to get into Gryffindor. That way, I can keep an eye on Harry. If he decides to befriend me. Dad runs the Quibbler, which is utter rubbish. I mean, he's clear-sighted, but he's a tad bit insane. I'll probably get picked on._

_You should come to Camp soon. Annabeth misses you. As a matter of fact, I do, too. I think Luke does, as well, but he's been super cranky and secretive lately. It's hard to tell what he's thinking, anyway. But you know all about that, being his brother._

_See you soon!_

_Luna_

To say that Lucas was surprised was an understatement. He was beyond surprised. When the realization that Luna was a witch had settled in, his surprise had turned into excitement and relief. He no longer had to do the quest by himself. Luna Lovegood, one of his friends, was coming to Hogwarts. When he first finished reading it, he had done a happy little dance that he most certainly wouldn't have done as Draco Malfoy and he would have only done it as Lucas Castellan if he was certain he was alone.

There was a sudden crack, not unlike a whip, making Lucas drop the piece of parchment in shock.

"Holy-"

A little creature with large bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls had just appeared in front of him. It wore something that resembled a very dirty pillowcase, with holes for its arms and legs.

Lucas took a deep breath, calming himself down.

"Sorry." He felt mildly embarrassed. "You just scared me."

"It is no problem, sir, none at all." The creature bowed down lowly, its long, pointy nose brushing the ground. His high pitched voice was much higher than any voice he had heard before. "Dobby has come to clean the room, sir. Dobby did not mean to startle you, sir."

"It's fine." Lucas brushed off the apology. He shifted uncomfortably, deciding to pick up the letter. "I don't mean to be rude or to offend you, but what are you?"

"Dobby is a house-elf, sir, bound to serve one house and one family forever."

"And it's this family," he guessed. "The Malfoys."

Dobby nodded, his large eyes staring at him unwaveringly. "Sir refers to his family as the Malfoys. Dobby wonders why. Dobby knows sir is a demigod but is sir not related to the Malfoys?"

"No." Lucas figured it'd be best, to tell the truth. Dobby already knew that he was a demigod. What was the harm in revealing that he wasn't actually a Malfoy? "My name is Lucas Castellan. My mum was a Muggle-Born. I doubt there's any relation between the Castellans and the Malfoys."

Dobby nodded. He walked over to Lucas's bed, going to make his bed.

Lucas slid off the bed and placed the letter on the top of his dresser. "I'll just, er, get out of your way now."

He walked out of his room, going down the stairs, deciding to go out to the grounds of Malfoy Manor to clear his head. 

Unlike the manor itself, the landscape around the manor was much more lively and colourful. It was bordered by tall yew hedges and the landscape was filled with different types of trees and plants. Oak, birch, cherry, apple, chestnut; they were arranged in orderly rows. Rose bushes, peonies, aconite, daisies, lavender, daylilies, bleeding hearts, tulips, carnations, dahlias, chrysanthemums, marigolds and poppies were planted around the trees; in some areas, the flowers had been arranged to spell messages or simple pictures.

"Draco!" Narcissa's voice rang in his ears. She had come up to him, in what was unmistakably a very good mood. She wore robes and gardening gloves. Her blond hair was carefully curled and tied up, so it wouldn't get in the way. "Do you want to help me? I'm planting Hydrangeas."

Lucas brightened. "Sure!"

He followed Narcissa down a path that led to a fat apple tree, pondering how Narcissa married someone like Lucius Malfoy. Narcissa was kind, compassionate and she admitted to not caring about blood purity. Lucius was arrogant, cruel and exceptionally Muggle-hating. He represented the worst of Slytherin, while Narcissa represented the better traits.

In pots, there were hydrangeas in different shades of blue and purple. They were clearly waiting to be planted. One bush was already planted, its pastel blue petals contrasting against the rough, brown bark of the trunk behind it.

"Let's start, shall we?" Narcissa suggested.

Lucas nodded and they set to work. He noted the different variations of blue and purple. They fit in very well. Pastel blue, sky blue, cornflower, azure, blue, light blue, periwinkle, purple, lavender, orchid, violet, royal purple and wisteria.

After a while, they were finished. Sweat was pouring down Lucas's back. The sun had moved directly above them, marking the time as noon. 

"It looks beautiful." Lucas brushed his fingers on the periwinkle petal of one flower. "You're fantastic at gardening."

"Thank you." Narcissa was panting. "Your father doesn't seem to hold the same adoration you do. He's always said that this is pointless."

Lucas shook his head in disbelief. "Pointless? But aren't looks important? If the Minister of Magic came here to find the house in a complete mess, wouldn't that make him look bad?"

"It would, but he expects a house-elf to do these types of things." She looked mildly upset. "But I'm used to it. He's traditional. My mother and father looked down at me for being interested in gardening. But not as much as Andromeda. They disowned her for marrying a Muggle-Born."

"She's quite nice," Lucas commented. He had met her when Narcissa had dropped him off at her house because she and Lucius had to leave. Their house was much more cheerful and it had a Muggle style, courtesy of her husband, Ted Tonks, who was a Muggle-Born. He had enjoyed his time there and found their daughter, Nymphadora Tonks's company enjoyable.

"And my parents weren't the nicest people." She sighed. "At least she didn't end up like Bellatrix. She's in Azkaban now."

He didn't answer. If he was being honest, he was surprised, though he hid it well. Granted, he spent his time out of Lucius and Narcissa's way, so he couldn't know them too much, but he hadn't expected for Narcissa to be against Voldemort's way. As he heard her talk about it, he was more and more certain that Narcissa opposed Voldemort's way, while Lucius supported it.

As Lucas left to go back to the house, he sighed. The sooner this quest was done, the better. He didn't know if he could stand to be in Lucius Malfoy's presence for six more years. At least he had Luna to look forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very short. Oh well. I never meant for it to be too long, anyway. This chapter was just meant to be a peek at the life at Malfoy Manor, though I'm not sure I pulled that off too well. I kind of just introduced the Black and Malfoy family, though only Narcissa and Dobby were actually there. The rest were just mentioned.
> 
> I have a question for you all. Would you like me to explain my thoughts on each chapter from now on? I started doing this on Wattpad, then gave up when I reposted this on here. I know some people don't like reading notes, whether it's at the beginning or the end, so I thought I'd ask your opinion.
> 
> -Violet1309


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15: Malfoys vs Weasleys**

The rest of the summer passed by pretty quickly. And uneventfully, for the most part. Not that Lucas let that fool him. Something was going to happen. He just knew it. It was the way the Fates' minds worked. When things get a bit bland, add some excitement.

It had happened when Lucius went with Lucas to Diagon Ally. All things considered, it wasn't as bad as it could've been, but something still happened. And in Lucas's opinion, that was bad enough.

"Draco!" Lucius rapped on the door that connected to Lucas's room, with what sounded suspiciously like his cane.

Lucas ran over to the door and threw it open. "Yes?" There, standing just behind the door, stood Lucius Malfoy in all his glory. He had his long, platinum blond hair brushed back and he wore long robes. In his hand, he held his cane- a long black pole, tipped with a silver snake head at the top.

He tossed a letter at Lucas. "Your letter came today. We're going to Diagon Ally to get your stuff. I'm buying you a racing broom for your birthday, as well." 

"Yes, father." 

Lucius nodded once and turned away. "Don't forget to slick your hair back- it's a mess."

Lucas scoffed quietly as he gently shut the door. A mess. Yeah, right. If his hair was a mess right now, then he was a karpos. His hair was ruffled, not "a mess."

He went into the bathroom connected to his room, trying his hardest to keep his frustration in check. He hated having his hair slicked back, he hated Lucius Malfoy and he hated Voldemort. Not necessarily in that order.

After slicking his hair back (READ: manipulating the Mist and pouring out a bit of Sleekeazy's Hair potion from the bottle), Lucas opened the letter and read it. It informed him that he needed to catch the Hogwarts Express like usual, from King's Cross station on September 1st. It gave him a list of the new books he would need to pick up, as well.

Second-year students will require:

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ by Miranda Goshawk  
_Break with a Banshee_ by Gilderoy Lockhart  
_Gadding with Ghouls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart  
_Holidays with Hags_ by Gilderoy Lockhart  
_Travels with Trolls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart  
_Voyages with Vampires_ by Gilderoy Lockhart  
_Wanderings with Werewolves_ by Gilderoy Lockhart  
_Year with the Yeti_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

Lucas stared at the sheet in disbelief. The Standard Book of Spells was surely for Charms- that he could understand. It wasn't as if he would learn the same spells over and over again each year, but the rest? That was most likely for Defence Against the Dark Arts, but why did they need so many books?

Then there was the mystery of the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Lucas knew that the post was rumoured to be jinxed- Hogwarts had never kept a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for more than one year for Zeus knows how long.

He sighed. "Well, if they turn out to be rubbish, at least I won't have to deal with them next year."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

So Lucas found himself following his "father" down the streets of Knockturn Ally, a place that Lucius had failed to inform him that they were going to.

Knockturn Ally was easily distinguishable from Diagon Ally. It was a dingy ally that looked like it was made of shops solely dedicated to the dark arts. The one that Lucius was leading him to- Borgin and Burkes- looked like the biggest shop on the street. It looked like the wizarding equivalent of an antique shop, albeit with much darker items.

Lucius pushed open the door and Lucas trailed behind him, wondering what they were doing here. Surely he wasn't buying his gift here? 

He immediately dismissed the thought. That was ridiculous. He said he was going to buy him a racing broom, not a dark object.

The inside wasn't much better. Personally, Lucas preferred the outside of the shop to this. A glass case nearby had held a withered hand on a cushion, a pack of bloody cards and a glass eye that was creepily staring at him. Evil looking masks were placed on the walls, where they leered down at people, an array of human bones laid on the counter and rusty, spiked objects hung from the ceiling.

Lucius rang a bell on the counter before addressing Lucas.

"Touch nothing, Draco." He looked around lazily at the assortment of objects in the shop.

Lucas decided to play the spoiled brat. "I thought you were going to buy me a present." He had been eyeing the glass eye. He half expected for him to be attacked by something. It was unlikely, but being hunted down by monsters made him paranoid. 

"I said I would buy you a racing broom," Lucius snapped, drumming his fingers on the counter.

"What good is the broom if I'm not on the house team?" Lucas was enjoying this way too much. There was a certain thrill in acting. He also found that acting came to him easily. It most likely came from his audiokinesis. "Harry Potter got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so he could play for Gryffindor. He's not even that good, it's just because he's _famous..._ famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead..."

He looked over to see a flash of emerald green through the crack of a large, black cabinet.

He continued talking, hoping that Lucius hadn't noticed him stop.

"... everyone thinks he's so _smart,_ wonderful _Potter_ with his _scar_ and his _broomstick-_ "

"You have told me this at least a dozen times already," Lucius butted in, glaring at him, "and I would remind you that it is not- prudent- to appear less fond of Harry Potter, not when most of our kind regard him as the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear- ah, Mr. Borgin."

Lucas suppressed a snort. Truth to be told, he had not told Lucius this at all- it was the work of the Mist. The amount of stuff the Mist could do never ceased to amaze him. If he wanted to, he could've made a drakon look like a stuffed toy.

A hunching man had come up behind the counter, pushing his oily and greasy hair out of his face.

"Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again." Mr. Borgin's voice was as oily as his hair. "Delighted- and young Master Malfoy too- charmed. How may I be of assistance? I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably priced-"

"I'm not buying, today, but selling, Mr. Borgin." Lucius had an impatient look on his face.

The smile on Mr. Borgin's face faded slightly. "Selling?"

"You have heard, of course, that the Ministry is conducting more raids." From the depths of his robe, he produced a long roll of parchment and unravelled it for Mr. Borgin to read. "I have a few- ah- items at home that might embarrass me if the Ministry were to call..."

Mr. Borgin placed a pair of pinze-nez on his nose and looked at the list.

"The Ministry wouldn't presume to trouble you, sir, surely?"

Lucius's lips curled in distaste.

"I have not been visited yet. The name Malfoy still commands a certain respect, yet the Ministry grows ever meddlesome. There are rumours about a new Muggle Protection Act- no doubt that flea-bitten, Muggle loving fool Arthur Weasley is behind it-"

Lucas felt a sudden desire to strangle Lucius.

"- and as you see, certain of these poisons might make it _appear_ -"

"Can I have _that_?" Lucas pointed at the withered hand in an attempt to stop Lucius from blathering on about how wizards were superior to Muggles.

Mr. Borgin abandoned Lucius's list immediately. "Ah, the Hand of Glory! Insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder! Best friend of thieves and plunderers! Your son has fine taste, sir."

"I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin," Lucius said coldly.

"No offence, sir, no offence meant-" Mr. Borgin hastened to reassure him.

"Though if his school grades don't pick up, that may indeed be all he is fit for." Lucius's voice was still icy cold.

Lucas didn't reply. He couldn't see what was so bad about being a thief. A plunderer was bad, sure, but a thief wasn't too bad. His dad was the God of Thieves, for Zeus's sake. His jaw clenched tightly in anger, though he was careful to hide it.

"I would've thought you would've been ashamed and upset that a girl of no wizard family had beat you in every exam," Lucius snapped.

"It's the same all over." Mr. Borgin's voice was as oily as ever. "Wizard blood is accounting for less and less everywhere-"

"Not with me," Lucius interjected, his nostrils flaring.

"No sir, nor with me, sir." Mr. Borgin sank in a deep bow.

"In that case, perhaps we can return to my list." Lucius looked incredibly impatient. "I am in something of a hurry, Borgin, I have important business elsewhere today."

They began to negotiate. Lucas let his attention wander, looking at the different artifacts in the room, but did not touch them. He wasn't stupid- he knew that it wasn't a good idea to touch things that were clearly filled with dark magic. He began to the objects close to the cabinet. He was pretty sure someone was hiding in it.

He inspected a long coil of hangman's rope and paused to read a card propped against an elaborate necklace of opals: _Caution: Do Not Touch. Cursed- Has Claimed the Lives of Nineteen Muggle Owners to Date._

Lucas inched towards the cabinet, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever was in there.

"Done," Lucius announced from the counter. "Come, Draco!"

Lucas sighed as he turned away. So much for finding out who was hidden in the cabinet.

"Good day to you, Mr. Borgin, I'll expect you at the Manor tomorrow to pick up the goods."

As they left, Lucas could hear Mr. Borgin mumble under his breath, "Good day to yourself, _Mister_ Malfoy, and if the stories are true, you haven't sold me half of what's hidden in your _manor_..."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Soon Lucas and Lucius came into the vicinity of Flourish and Blotts, which was packed. People were actually jostling each other at the entrance of the shop. When they reached the entrance, it became very obvious why by the large banner stretched across the higher windows:

GILDEROY LOCKHART  
will be signing copies of his autobiography   
_MAGICAL ME_  
today 12:30 - 4:30 pm

"Excuse me," Lucius snapped. Lucas couldn't believe how Lucius could make a polite phrase sound menacing and rude. He'd call it a talent, but it really wasn't. Lucas didn't actually know what to call it. 

He shook himself out of his thoughts just as the crowd parted to let Lucius through. Lucas quickly followed him inside, which was even more packed than the outside. A long line snaked around the bookshelves to the back of the store, where Lockhart was doing his autographs. Lucas went to grab the books assigned on the list.

Before long, Lucas heard Lockhart shout out, "It _can't_ be Harry Potter?"

Lucas rushed to the back of the shop, just in time to see Lockhart pull Harry to the front, while the crowd were whispering excitedly.

Lucas's first thought was that Lockhart was way too full of himself. He was wearing robes in forget-me-not blue which matched his eyes perfectly. His pointed wizard's hat set on an angle on his wavy blond hair and he smiled as if he owned the world. 

Lockhart held Harry's hand up for the photographer, a short, irritable man. He was clicking away madly, with purple smoke drifting lazily over a family of redheads.

"Nice big smile, Harry," Lockhart instructed Harry. "Together, you and I are worth the front page."

Lucas honestly felt bad for Harry. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be in Harry's place, ogled at like a show dog.

Finally, Lockhart let go of Harry's hand. Lucas saw Harry try to discreetly go back to the Weasleys' side, but Lockhart threw an arm around Harry's shoulder and held him to his side firmly. 

"Ladies and gentleman!" Lockhart waved his arm to signal for silence. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!

"When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography- which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge-" the crowd applauded loudly again, "-he had _no idea_ ," Lockhart continued, acting as if he had not been interrupted, "that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, _Magical Me_. He and his schoolfellows will, in fact, be getting the real, magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The crowd applauded and clapped, while Lucas groaned and resisted the urge to slam his head into the nearest bookshelf. He wasn't as good at reading people as Annabeth was, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that Lockhart would make a terrible teacher. The man was way too full of himself.

"Bet you're jealous that you weren't the one up there, aren't you, Malfoy?" Ron called out.

Lucas turned around. Ron was standing just behind him, a look of glee on his face. Harry was talking to his younger sister Ginny, while Hermione was frowning in disapproval. Behind Ron, Fred and George were silently miming hexing him, to which Lucas discreetly shook his head. He didn't want them to hex their own brother for him.

"What Malfoy?" Fred plastered a confused expression onto his face. "I don't see one. Do you, Fred?"

"Not at all, George," George replied, playing along. Lucas tried not to laugh. "Perhaps we ought to consider a room in St. Mungos for our dear brother."

Lucas couldn't help himself. He started laughing. It was like a dam had broken and all of the water had come rushing out. At first, it was snickers, which gradually increased to chuckles, which then turned into full out laughter. The twins were right, of course. He wasn't a Malfoy. He was a Castellan.

By the time Lucas had finally calmed down, Mr. Weasley had come over, and Lucas took note of the scene. The twins were grinning broadly, Hermione looked torn between amusement and disapproval, Harry looked like he wanted to defend Ron and Ron went scarlet. Lucas was sure that Ron wanted to hex him on the spot for laughing at George's joke. Mr. Weasley simply looked confused.

"What are you kids doing?" he asked. "It's mad in here, let's go outside."

"He laughed at me!" Ron exploded, pointing at Lucas.

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Oh, _sorry_ for laughing at a very funny joke. Am I not allowed to laugh?"

Mr. Weasley looked even more confused. "You are?"

"Draco Malfoy, sir."

"He's very nice," George interjected. "Nothing like Lucius Malfoy."

"Well, well, well- Arthur Weasley."

Lucius had come over. He placed his hand on Lucas's shoulder, a sneer on his face.

Mr. Weasley nodded coldly. "Lucius."

Lucius's expression remained the same. "Busy time at the Ministry, I hear. All those raids... I hope they're paying you overtime?"

Lucius extracted a very old, battered copy of _A Beginners Guide to Transfiguration_ from Ginny's cauldron, amidst the glossy Lockhart books.

Lucius smirked. "Obviously not. Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Mr. Weasley flushed a darker red than Ron.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy."

"Clearly." Lucius glanced at Hermione's parents, who were standing to the side, watching cautiously. "The company you keep, Weasley... and I thought your family could sink no lower-"

There was a loud clang as Ginny's cauldron went flying- Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Lucius, knocking him backwards until he crashed into a bookshelf. Dozens of large and heavy tomes rained down on their heads; there was a yell of, "Get him, Dad!" from Fred; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking "No, Arthur, no!"; the crowd backed up, knocking down even more bookshelves in the process.

"Gentlemen, please- please!" The assistant desperately tried to control the situation. Then, in a louder voice, he yelled, "Break it up, there, gents, break it up!"

Hagrid surged forwards through the sea of books. With a single pull, he had broke Lucius and Mr. Weasley apart. Mr. Weasley had a split lip and Lucius had a black eye from an _Encyclopedia of Toadstools._ On one hand, Lucius still had Ginny's transfiguration textbook. Lucas saw him slip a small, black, tattered book into it and Lucius thrust it at Ginny, eyes gleaming with malice.

"Here, girl- take your book back- it's the best your father can give you."

He pulled himself out of Hagrid's hold and beckoned for Lucas to follow him, leaving the store.

Lucas sighed as he exited Flourish and Blotts. He would have to tell Fred and George about the book, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while. Nearly a month. Sorry. I had a presentation for school coming up and I was very stressed about it, so I spent pretty much all my time getting ready for it. I think I did okay. But now that Winter Break is here, I should be able to update more often.
> 
> Since no one actually replied to if they wanted me to explain my thoughts for the events that happen in each chapter, I'm not doing it. If you want to read it, you can go to Wattpad. I'm going to type a joke here, instead. It'll be either Harry Potter or Percy Jackson related. So here it is:
> 
> Voldemort is like a teenage girl. He has a diary, a tiara, a special cup, a pet he adores and an obsession with a famous teenage boy.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: The Disappearance of Harry and Ron**

The rest of the summer went by smoothly. Nothing much happened. Except for the fact that Lucius was in a very bad mood. But, if Lucas was being honest? It was kind of funny. It was certainly amusing. Apparently, Lucius's ego couldn't face being knocked into a bookshelf by a "Blood-Traitor."

On Lucas's last day, he spent the entire day outside, only going in for meals and when called in. He wouldn't have a whole lot of freedom once he got to Hogwarts. At Malfoy Manor, nobody bothered Lucas. Lucas had snuck out of Malfoy Manor to Camp Half-Blood, as he promised to Luna, and no one noticed.

Then, in the evening, Lucas spent his time packing. It was a good excuse to stay in his room, seeing as he didn't want to spend time with Lucius longer than he had to. He was okay with Narcissa, but his thoughts on Lucius hadn't changed one bit. 

The next morning, Lucas didn't want to get up. It was early, the sun had just come up and he just wanted to sleep. Then, Narcissa sent Dobby. That made him get out of bed. There was nothing like being woken up by a dirty house-elf with a very high pitched voice. After he had gotten ready and went down, there was a large breakfast set up in the dining room, which Lucas found unnecessary. It was just Narcissa, Lucius, and himself. The feast, sorry, _breakfast,_ looked like it could feed the entirety of Camp Half-Blood. 

Lucas was very curious as to how they would get to Kings Cross, as he doubted that they would use the Muggle way. Not Lucius, at least. Narcissa would probably have some sort of self-preservation and at least pretend to agree with Lucius. So when Narcissa told him to grab her arm, as they were going on Side-Along Apparition, Lucas nodded and played along. He had no idea what Side-Along Apparition was, but he wasn't going to show it.

Then, Lucas felt Narcissa spin on the spot and everything went black (not that the Manor was bright enough, to begin with). Lucas felt like he was pressed from all sides; he couldn't breathe, it was as if iron bands were tightening around his chest and his eyes, as well as his ear-drums, were being forced into his skull.

Soon after, it stopped and as Lucas's vision cleared, he saw that they were on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. They had travelled from the Malfoy Manor, all the way to Kings Cross. More accurately, they had travelled directly into the platform.

Lucas glanced around, trying to find anyone he knew. The Weasleys had yet to show up and it seemed like Daphne and Pansy had already gone on the train- he saw their parents chatting. He looked around some more, hoping to maybe catch Luna in the crowd. 

Then, Lucas spotted Luna in the crowd, standing next to her father, who was probably the most eccentric-looking wizard to ever exist. He was slightly cross-eyed; his hair a very pale white, cut shoulder-length and with a texture, not unlike candyfloss. He was wearing tattered robes the shade of ivory.

Luna spotted Lucas looking at them and waved.

"Those are the Lovegoods," Narcissa informed Lucas. "They're rather... odd."

"Hi, Draco!" Luna skipped over to them, practically bouncing with excitement. "How are you?"

"Good." Lucas glanced at Narcissa. It seemed like she didn't think there was anything unusual with him and Luna conversing as if they were very good friends. Which, of course, they were, but that, was beside the point. 

Luna smiled. "Well, that's good to hear. I wouldn't know what to do if you were unhappy." She lowered her voice. "Calling you by, 'Draco' is going to take some getting used to."

Lucas snorted. He turned to Narcissa. "Is it okay if I find my friends? I want to introduce Luna to them."

Narcissa nodded, smiling. "It's good to make friends in other houses. I won't tell your father."

"Thank you." Lucas led Luna into a compartment, which, luckily, was where Theo, Pansy, and Daphne were.

"Draco," Theo greeted them. "Who's this?"

"A friend," Lucas replied.

"Hi," Luna said. She stuck out a hand. "My name is Luna, Luna Lovegood."

Pansy shook her hand. "Finally! Another girl!" She stuck her tongue out at Theo and Lucas, just as Lucas plopped down beside Theo. "There are more girls than boys, now."

Theo rolled his eyes. "As if we care." He paused, then turned to Lucas. "Right?"

"Are you asking me, or are you forcing me to agree?" Lucas asked. After a pause, he added, "Or is it both?"

Daphne laughed. "Pretty sure it's both." She turned her attention to Luna. "Lovegood, huh? Your father wouldn't happen to be-"

"-Xenophilius Lovegood, editor of the Quibbler?" Luna interrupted. "Yes. Please don't give me that shit about how the Quibbler is rubbish. I know that better than anyone."

Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Never thought I'd see the day when you'd speak dirty. Isn't eleven a bit young, though?"

"...Shut up."

Lucas broke into uncontrollable laughter, while Luna continued to scowl at him.

After Lucas had finally calmed down, the Hogwarts Express had taken off. Soon after, to everyone's surprise (most likely), Percy, Fred and George's older brother, stuck his head in their compartment.

"Has any of you seen Ron?" Percy asked. "Or Harry?"

Luna frowned. "No. Why would we? From what I've heard from Draco, they're not exactly a fan of Slytherins." She waited for Percy's words to sink in. "Wait. They're missing?" she practically screeched.

"Ow." Theo rubbed his ears gingerly, wincing as he did so. "A little warning next time?"

Luna took note of their expressions, ranging from mildly irritated (Percy), to in physical pain (Theo).

"I think you caused lasting damage to Theo's ears," Lucas joked. He turned to Percy. "How come they're missing."

"I don't know!" Percy looked just about ready to tear his hair out. "When it was their turn to go through the barrier, they never showed up! At first, I thought that maybe they snuck away when no one was looking..." He trailed off. "Oh, Merlin."

Percy left abruptly, leaving them to ponder what he had thought of.

"I thought you didn't like Potter and Weasley?" Pansy asked Lucas.

"I don't," Lucas confirmed, leaning back into the seat. "Not much, at least. But Fred and George care about them. Consider it as me doing a favour for them."

"Makes sense," Luna piped up. She shared a knowing look with Lucas, one that said that she knew exactly what he was doing. After all, they shared a quest. If Lucas couldn't keep an eye on Harry, then the quest was already doomed.

They continued to chat for the rest of the trip until they arrived at the Hogsmeade station. They got off and followed the rest of the school (save for the first years) onto a rough, mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the students, each pulled by fleshless winged horses, with a dragon-like head and white, pupil-less eyes, as well as grand, black leathery wings that resembled a bat's.

"What are those horses?" Lucas asked Theo, mainly because he thought Theo could see them. He didn't think the rest could.

"I think those are Thestrals." Theo settled comfortably in the seat. "A breed of winged horses visible only to people who have seen death and have dealt with it."

Lucas noted that the coach smelled faintly of mould and straw. As the Thestrals trudged over to a pair of magnificent, iron-wrought gates, bordered by two stone columns topped with winged boars, Lucas pondered over where Harry and Ron could've gone. He really couldn't care less about where Ron was, but this quest was about protecting Harry. What if he had missed the Hogwarts Express? 

" **Σταματήσει,** " Lucas told himself. " **Η ανησυχία δεν θα σας οδηγήσει πουθενά.** "

The carriage soon picked up speed on the sloping path up to the castle, until at last, the carriage stood to a halt.

"We're here," Theo said, a little unnecessary.

"We know that," Daphne retorted.

They got out of the coach, which was swaying slightly as the Thestrals fidgeted. They went up to the oak doors, heading in when it opened, and walked through the corridors.

When Lucas got to the Slytherin table, he sat down and glanced at the Gryffindor table.

All of a sudden, Lucas froze. He rubbed his eyes and looked back at the Gryffindor table, but there was no mistaking it.

Everyone from years one to seven was already here. Harry Potter, however, was nowhere to be seen.

**Translations:**

Σταματήσει. Η ανησυχία δεν θα σας οδηγήσει πουθενά. (Stop it. Worrying will get you nowhere.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! I honestly don't care that it's late. All that matters is that I posted this on Christmas and that's that.
> 
> ... I don't know what else to add. Oh well. Here's another joke:
> 
> Umbridge: Cedric's Diggory's death was a tragic accident!  
> Harry and Ron: Sounds like your birth!


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17: Luna's Sorting**

Lucas was freaking out. Silently. He didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to himself. Just because he was freaking out didn't mean that he had to subject everyone to his panic. Besides, the moment he made it public, his cover would be blown. After all, why would a Slytherin care about a Gryffindor?

Lucas stared at the entrance to the Great Hall, hoping that Harry and Ron would come in. Maybe their coach was behind. Maybe they were late getting off the train and had to walk the distance. He desperately tried to keep his breathing level.

"Draco." Daphne waved a hand in front of Lucas. "Draco? Earth to Draco?"

Lucas snapped out of his thoughts, finally calming down. "What?"

"You were zoning out." Daphne gestured at the entrance to the Great Hall. "The first years are going to be sorted any second now. All we have to do is wait to see what house Luna gets sorted in."

"Which house do you think she'll be in?" Pansy leaned towards them.

"Slytherin," Theo put in.

Lucas shook his head. "She's a Ravenclaw, whether she likes it or not."

Daphne shook her head. "No way. She's not that bookish. I'm not saying she's not smart, but she doesn't seem like the type to spend her entire studying. She's a Hufflepuff for sure. I mean, she's kind and patient. You know, on the Hogwarts Express, she was explaining about Ancient Runes to me!"

"Hence why she'll be in Ravenclaw," Lucas retorted.

"I'll have to side with Draco on this one." Pansy kept her eyes trained on the entrance. "She's pretty eager to learn." She paused, lost in thought, then added, "Why don't we bet?"

"Ten Galleons to whoever wins?" Theo glanced at each of them for confirmation.

Lucas shrugged. "Sure." He stopped for a moment, then snickered. "You know, if Pansy and I win, you'll lose double."

"Which is why I hope either Theo or I win." Daphne had her eyes glued to the entrance, where McGonagall had just entered, followed by the first years, who were in a line. "Preferably me."

Lucas snorted. "'Cause then you won't have to pay at all."

"Hush." Daphne put a finger to her lips. "Luna's being sorted."

Lucas turned his head to the front, and sure enough, Luna was sitting on the three-legged stool, with the Sorting Hat placed lopsided on her head so that it completely covered one eye and only covered half of her other eye. Her leg was bouncing at an erratic pace and she seemed to be fidgeting. A lot. 

After what seemed like a whole minute, the hat seemed to have decided and yelled, "RAVENCLAW!"

"YES!" Pansy clapped loudly- the loudest out of the four of them. "Theo, Daphne, you both owe me ten Galleons!"

Theo groaned loudly. He turned to Lucas, with a pleading expression. "Murder me. Please."

Lucas shook his head. "Nope." He gestured to the Ravenclaw table, where Luna was seated. "Ask the Ravenclaw."

Pansy laughed. "I'm pretty sure that's his way of rubbing his victory in his face."

"At least I don't yell at the whole school that I've just won a bet," Lucas retorted without any heat.

"Where do you think Snape is?" Theo asked before Pansy could reply to Lucas's retort.

Lucas glanced up at the Staff Table. Snape's seat was empty, and as he scanned the Great Hall, the greasy-haired Potions Master was nowhere to be found. His chair was pushed back, which suggested that Snape was there at some point, and then left.

"Not here," Daphne deadpanned.

Theo rolled his eyes. "Hence why I'm asking."

Pansy giggled. "Oooh, look!" Pansy pointed at the entrance of the hall.

Theo turned his head to look at where Pansy was pointing so fast that Lucas half expected him to get whiplash. 

"What is it?"

"It's just Weasley and Potter." Lucas had also seen what Pansy saw. Of course, he was lying (maybe to his friends, or maybe to himself. He wasn't quite sure). It wasn't just them. He noticed that they looked slightly dishevelled and he wondered just what were they doing, as well as how they got to Hogwarts in the first place if they missed the Hogwarts Express.

"Wonder how they got here?" Pansy voiced the question that was on everyone's mind.

Lucas smirked. "So you can add something to the rumour mill?"

"No." Pansy rolled her eyes. "Okay, maybe. But you can't tell me that _you're_ not interested as to how they got here. I mean, they can't have taken the Hogwarts Express. Even if they got off late and missed the coaches, they wouldn't be _this_ late. The Sorting Ceremony is already over!"

"What?" Theo turned to look at the staff table. The stool had already been carried away and the Sorting Hat was nowhere to be seen. On top of that, McGonagall was in her seat. Theo's eyes widened. "Blimey. Didn't think we were talking _that_ long."

Pansy sniffed. "Yes, well, not everyone ignores everything else but their own conversation."

"Have you thought about being a detective, Pans?" Daphne asked. When Pansy gave her a confused expression, she added, "It's a Muggle job. Yes, we all know how much you don't like the so-called "Mudbloods," but Draco expressed hate about them and Half-Bloods, and he's friends with me, as well as Granger."

"I was acting," Lucas corrected her, a bit miffed. "I don't care about their blood-status. Why should I? There are other things to look for in a person: their interests, hobbies and personality."

Pansy thought about it. "True," she admitted. "I wouldn't want to be friends with someone who is a complete ass, even if they were a Pure-Blood." She turned to Daphne. "So, what exactly does a detective do?"

Daphne seemed to brighten up, and she began to explain the profession to Pansy. Soon they had forgotten about Lucas and Theo.

"Excluded out of the conversation," Theo joked.

Lucas snorted and glanced back at the entrance to the hall to see Harry and Ron grudgingly follow Snape to the Dungeons. Their shoulders were slumped and their muscles were tensed up. Lucas turned to look at the Ravenclaw table to see if Luna had seen them. 

Luna met his gaze; nodded briefly and mouthed, "Where do you think they're going?" Lucas just shrugged in response, careful to not let anyone see. Then, he went back to internally panicking. As well as eating, but he felt like his body was on autopilot. 

The feast soon wrapped up and Lucas followed the rest of the Slytherins to the Slytherin Dungeon. Pansy suddenly ran up to Lucas and said, "There's a rumour going around about how Potter and Weasley came via a flying car." Then, she nodded once and headed to the Girls' Dormitory.

Theo frowned. "What does she mean by that?"

"That someone said that Weasley and Potter used a flying car to get here." Lucas couldn't help but continue to worry about Harry. By the time he got ready for bed, he flopped on the bed and drew the hangings tight, hoping that the next day would be better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year's Eve! (Happy New Year to some people). I hope you're all doing well and are safe. This is the last chapter I'm posting in 2020. This year has passed by so fast.  
> I'd like to take a break from the jokes and ask you all a question. How do you and/or your family celebrate the New Year? If you feel uncomfortable answering, I'll understand. My family, namely my mom, usually cooks something special. This year, we had Hot Pot.  
> Again, Happy New Year's Eve/New Year!


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18: Professor Lockhart**

Despite Lucas wishing for the next day to be bland and uneventful, the next day was anything but that. From breakfast in the Great Hall, things became steadily worse, though it would be a lie if Lucas said that he didn't find breakfast at least a bit amusing.

Breakfast started the same as any other morning. The four long tables were each decorated in their houses colours and piled with tureens of porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast and dishes of eggs and bacon beneath the enchanted ceiling, which was a dull, cloudy gray. Theo, Lucas, Pansy and Daphne had sat together at the Slytherin table chatting, keen to ignore everything else. Well, Lucas was. 

However, Lucas had just picked up a piece of toast when there was a rushing sound overhead, accompanied by about a hundred owls rushing in, circling the Great Hall; dropping letters and packages. The Malfoys' family owl dropped a package of sweets in front of Lucas then left, making sure to "accidentally" cuff Blaise on the head with its wing.

Lucas sniggered at Blaise's shocked face.

"What was that for?" Blaise yelled at the retreating bird. "Bloody bird," he added under his breath.

"Did your family owl just-" Theo stared at Blaise, who was rubbing the side of his gingerly, and then Theo blinked. "Wow. He's awesome. Is it a he?"

Lucas didn't reply. He didn't know himself. He couldn't very well say, "I don't know." It was the Malfoy's family owl. How would he _not_ know?

Suddenly, there was a sudden burst of sound that startled Lucas out of his thoughts, and he swore he saw the ceiling rattle.

"... _STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT HAD GONE..._ "

Lucas glanced at the Gryffindor table, trying to find the source of the sound. In front of Ron, there was a red-letter screaming at him. Lucas guessed that the voice belonged to Mrs. Weasley. He hadn't met her, but who else would send something like that? He noted that Ron was very red.

"...LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED..."

Lucas felt the corners of his mouth twitch, but he tried to keep a neutral face. It wasn't funny at all. He shouldn't be amused, but in this situation, there were only two different emotions you could feel: embarrassed or amused. 

"...ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED, YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."

Lucas's ears rang from the onslaught of sound. He rubbed them gingerly, while there was a sudden silence. Then, a few people started to laugh and soon after, people started talking as if nothing had happened. 

After a while, Snape made his way down to the Slytherin table from the Staff table and started handing out their schedules. Lucas took his schedule and saw that his year had History of Magic.

He groaned. By pure luck, Snape had already left.

"What?" Theo inquired.

"Look at what we have! History of Magic! First thing today. This is just-" Lucas cut himself off and gave a very frustrated huff.

Theo stared disbelievingly at his schedule. "Why are we being punished? If anything it should be Weasley and Potter in our place- they were the ones that flew a car to school."

Daphne laughed. "Come on. At least there'll be plenty of time to catch up on sleep!" She practically skipped out of the Great Hall, with Lucas, Pansy and Theo following her.

"Man, why is she so cheerful this morning?" Lucas grumbled under his breath.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

History of Magic wasn't much different. Binns went on about Goblin Wars as usual- why couldn't he talk about something else? There were only so many Goblin and Giant Wars you could talk about. Why couldn't he talk about the history of Hogwarts or events that occurred in other countries?

Lucas sighed as he absentmindedly drew on a scrap of parchment. One could hope.

Theo prodded Lucas's shoulder. "Hey. Lucas."

Lucas gave him a very annoyed stare, then returned to drawing. "What?"

"Wanna play Exploding Snap?" Theo reached into his bag. "I think I have a pack here."

"Sure. What are we trying to accomplish? Get Binns to look up from his notes?"

"YES!"

Some people looked at them strangely, but unsurprisingly, Binns didn't give them so much as a glance. Instead, he continued to drone on and on. 

"Yeah, I don't think Exploding Snap will get his attention. Spit?"

"Okay."

Theo shuffled the cards and set up the game. Spit was fairly simple: the objective was to be the first player to get rid of all their cards. The cards occasionally exploded, but none of them drew Binns's attention. Lucas briefly considered blowing up the classroom to see if Binns would notice, but ultimately decides against it. He didn't want to be expelled for property damage.

The class flew by pretty quickly (time flies by when you're having fun), to Lucas's surprise. They left the classroom and headed to class, which was Charms. At least that was interesting.

Lucas was pleased to find that Charms was still as easy as ever. Flitwick had given them a little lecture, refreshing their minds on how to cast a spell properly, then he started the lesson, teaching them how to cast an Engorgement and Shrinking Charm. By the end of the class, Lucas had succeeded in enhancing the size of his apple and reverting it to its original size.

"Well, you were always the best at Charms out of the four of us," Theo sighed. He had overpowered his Engorgement Charm and caused the apple to swell to the size of a cannonball before it exploded, scattering its pieces across the classroom.

Pansy patted Theo's shoulder. "Better luck next time. What do we have after lunch?"

"Defence Against the Dark Arts!" Daphne piped up. "I'm _so_ excited! I mean, have you _read_ any of his books yet? He's so brave! The way he just zapped the werewolf after he was cornered into a telephone box?"

Lucas just sighed, while Theo rolled his eyes. 

" **Οι θεοί με βοηθούν** ," Lucas muttered under his breath as they entered the Great Hall. " **Γι ' αυτό είναι τόσο χαρούμενη**."

Theo stared at Daphne's schedule. "Whyin the name of _Salazar Slytherin_ , have you drew little flowers around all of our Defence Against the Dark Arts classes?"

Daphne flushed furiously and stuffed her schedule back into her bag. 

They finished lunch and headed into the overcrowded courtyard since they still had a few minutes until Defence Against the Dark Arts. Daphne opened Break With a Banshee and Pansy read along with her.

"I don't get what's so great about _Gilderoy Lockhart_ ," Theo complained.

Lucas nodded in agreement. "He's an arrogant toerag." Luckily, Daphne and Pansy were too engrossed in their book to hear him say that.

"So you've met him?"

Lucas huffed. "Yeah. In Flourish and Blotts. And I wish I hadn't. Why did Dumbledore ever employ him?"

"Dunno."

Suddenly, Lucas heard Blaise call out, "Everyone queue up! Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

Lucas and Theo turned to look at Blaise just as Harry said, "No I'm not. Shut up, Zabini." He clenched his fists angrily and his face was tomato-red.

"You're just jealous," a first-year piped up. He was a very small, mousy-haired boy, grasping a camera in his hand.

Blaise laughed. " _Jealous_?" He no longer had to raise his voice- the entire courtyard had their eyes and ears on him. "Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."

Crabbe and Goyle were laughing like the idiots and brainless minions they were.

Ron took a step forward and said angrily, "Eat slugs, Zabini." Crabbe stopped laughing immediately and rubbed his large knuckles threateningly.

Blaise smirked. "Be careful, Weasley. You don't want to start any trouble or your mummy'll have to come and take you away from school." He switched to a shrill, high-pitched voice. " _If you put another toe out of line-_ "

Some Slytherins close by laughed at this.

"Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter," Blaise continued. "It'd be worth more than his family's entire house."

Ron pulled out his Spellotaped wand, but Hermione, who Lucas had decided was the only member of the Golden Trio who had an ounce of logic, snapped her book shut and whisper-yelled, "Look out!"

Gilderoy Lockhart was walking towards them, with his turquoise robes swirling about. "What's all this, what's all this? Who's giving out signed photos?"

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Like you weren't thinking about handing out signed photos to everyone you meet," he muttered under his breath.

Lucas saw Harry open his mouth to speak but was interrupted as Lockhart flung an arm around Harry's shoulder and boomed jovially, "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry!"

Lucas saw Blaise slip back into the crowd with a large smirk on his face.

"Come on then, Mr. Creevey." Lockhart beamed at the first-year. "A double portrait, can't say fairer than that, and we'll _both_ sign it for you."

Creevey smiled and fumbled for his camera, taking a picture just as the bell rang, signifying the start of classes for the afternoon. 

"Off you go, move along there," Lockhart called as he dragged Harry into the castle, who was pinned to his side.

"To be honest, I kind of feel bad for Potter," Lucas said to Theo quietly. "Stuck with Lockhart yammering in his ear."

Theo made a noise of agreement as they headed to the classroom. "I dread to see what today's lesson is about."

"Probably a 'Meet the Teacher Day.'"

Theo groaned as they entered the classroom, where they (unfortunately) were shepherded to the front by Pansy and Daphne. As they were going to the front, Lucas heard Ron say, "Harry Potter Fan Club."

Lucas snorted as he took his seat. He could always persuade Ginny to start one. He wasn't familiar with her, but maybe he could talk to her. He might be able to find out what that book was about, too.

The class grew silent as Lockhart cleared his throat. He picked up Neville's copy of _Travels With Trolls_ and raised it to show the class his own, winking photo on the cover.

"Me." Lockhart pointed at the photo and winked. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, third class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five times winner of _Witch Weekly's_ Most Charming Smile Award- but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

He waited for them to laugh. Lucas gave him a very strained and forced smile.

"I see you've bought a complete set of my books- well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about- just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in..."

When he handed the tests out, he walked back to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes. Start, _now_!"

Lucas looked down at his sheet. He had already decided to get the lowest mark just to spite Lockhart. Nevertheless, he began to read:

_1\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?_  
2\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?  
3\. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?

It went on and on, over three sheets of paper, until it finally ended at:

_54\. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?_

Half an hour later, when everyone had filled out their tests, Lockhart shuffled through them in front of the class.

"Tut, tut- hardly any of you remembered that my favourite colour is lilac. I say so in _Year With a Yeti._ And a few of you need to read _Wanderings With Werewolves_ a bit more carefully- I clearly state in Chapter Twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic people- though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky!"

Theo stared at Lockhart in disbelief, while Lucas had to bit his tongue to prevent himself from breaking into peals of laughter. Was Lockhart that blind? Surely he noticed that some people didn't like him?

Then Lockhart mentioned Hermione.

"... But Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions- good girl! In fact-" he flipped her test over. "-full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"

From behind Lucas, at the very back of the classroom, Hermione raised her trembling hand.

"Excellent!" Lockhart exclaimed. "Quiet excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so, to business..."

He bent down from behind his desk and set a large, covered cage onto it.

"Now- be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fear in this room. Know only that no harm will come to you whilst I am here. All I ask is for you to remain calm."

Lockhart placed a hand on the cloth obscuring the cage. Lucas had stopped laughing, though he didn't really believe Lockhart. 

"I must ask you not to scream," Lockhart said dramatically. "It might provoke them."

The whole class was silent. Then, Lockhart pulled off the cloth.

"Yes. _Freshly caught Cornish Pixies_."

_Drama queen,_ Lucas thought, annoyed.

Seamus Finnigan seemed to be thinking the same thing. He let out a snort of laughter that nobody, not even Lockhart, could mistake for a scream of terror.

Lockhart seemed unfazed and smiled at Seamus. "Yes?"

"Well, they're not- they're not - _dangerous_ , are they?"

Lockhart waved a finger at Seamus that made Lucas very annoyed. "Don't be so sure! Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"

Lucas had to admit that Lockhart's words made sense. Electric blue and six inches high, the pixies didn't look like much, but their size wasn't a guarantee of power.

"Right then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" With that, he opened the cage, setting the pixies loose.

All Hades broke out. The pixies scattered everywhere, flying through the air like rockets. Two of them grabbed Neville by the ears and hoisted him into the air. Several flew through the windows, showering the back with shattered glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom better than a rampaging cyclops. Within minutes, the whole class was taking shelter under desks.

"He's mad," Theo hissed. "Off his rocker. Absolutely insane."

Lucas sighed as he contemplated pulling out his knife and gutting a pixie with it. Surely Celestial Bronze would work. If not, he always had the silver pocketknife he picked up at Gringotts.

Just as he reached for the knife, Lockhart yelled out, "Come on now, round them up, round them up, they're only pixies!"

Then he rolled up his sleeves and waving his wand extravagantly, he yelled, " _Peskipiki Pesternomi_!"

Nothing happened. No light or effect. Instead, a pixie flew over and grabbed Lockhart's wand, chucking it out a broken window. Lockhart swallowed nervously, his face paled, and he ducked under his desk, only to be crushed a minute after because Neville had fallen onto his desk.

The bell rang and Lucas sighed in relief as he followed the rest of the class out the door.

"What happened?" It was from Fred. "Why is everyone rushing out?"

"Cornish Pixies," Lucas grumbled. "I didn't think Lockhart would be _this_ bad."

Pansy and Daphne both glared at him. Lucas hoped Hermione and Luna wouldn't be like this.

Fred winced. "I feel you."

"We had him first thing this morning," George said.

"Ah." Lucas shifted on his feet. "Um, do you mind if I talk to you for a moment? In private, I mean."

"No problem," the twins said at the same time. They dragged him into an abandoned classroom just down the corridor.

"So," Fred began.

"What do you," George continued.

"Want to talk to us about?"

"That really is a bit creepy," Lucas muttered. Then, in a much more audible voice, "I wanted to ask you if you could keep a closer eye on Ginny. I saw Lucius slip a black, tattered book into her Transfiguration textbook. It might not be anything, but he's been in a very bad mood ever since your dad made the new Muggle Protection Act. He might have chosen to retaliate by hurting Ginny."

Fred and George looked grim, which was a new look on them. Lucas didn't think he had ever seen them like that before.

"We'll keep an eye on her," George promised.

"Yeah," Fred agreed. "No offence, but Lucius Malfoy is a slimy snake."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I'm not too fond of Slytherins either. Most of them are prejudiced Pure-Bloods who think everyone's beneath them."

They chuckled. "You can't say fairer than that," Fred said.

"Well-"

"-we'll see you later, Lucas."

"Take care of yourself-"

"-and try not to die-"

"-before dinner."

Lucas shook his head amusedly. "Will do." He slid out of the room and into the empty hallway, going to his next class.

**Translations:**

Οι θεοί με βοηθούν. Γι ' αυτό είναι τόσο χαρούμενη. (Gods help me. No wonder she's so cheerful.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. I got a bit lazy last week. Fortunately for you, someone on Wattpad asked me when the next update would be, which is why it's certain I would be uploading. I'm going to enjoy slandering Lockhart as much as I can. In terms of my least favourite character, I can't decide between him or Umbitch (sorry, Umbridge.)
> 
> Anyway...
> 
> Neville: *grabs at his hair in shock* Oh my god, I've killed Harry Potter!  
> Voldemort: Wait, what? How did you do it? What's your secret? TEACH ME!!!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucas and Luna befriend Ginny, Lucas gets on the Quidditch Team (he's not so happy about it) and Lucas and Luke talk.

**Chapter 19: Nimbus 2001**

Lucas spent half of his breaks re-reading the class materials. He didn't want to fall behind because he forgot everything over the Summer.

Lucas had spent the other half trying to track down Ginny. When he had finally found her on Thursday, she had turned red and turned to flee, but Luna, who was accompanying him, asked her to hang out with them.

"Are we that scary?" Lucas joked.

Ginny smiled weakly. "No. It's just that Fred and George talk about you so much it seems kind of surreal that you're talking to me."

"I bet your brother enjoyed that." Lucas rolled his eyes. "Honestly, what did I ever do?"

Ginny plopped down on the ground leaning on a tree and they joined her. "I don't know. I think he doesn't like your dad, so he hates you, but that's just him. Mum and Dad were wary at first, but they trust Fred and George's judgement." She paused. "Even if it means another prankster. For the record, I'm not taking anything from you, and if you try to prank me, I'll make you regret it."

Lucas laughed nervously. "Alright, I won't do anything. I believe you. You grew up with Fred and George, after all."

Luna gave Lucas an incredulous look. "She's younger than you. I doubt she knows any hexes. Even if she punched you, I doubt it would do anything."

"You're younger than me," Lucas pointed out. " **Δεν σε εμπόδισε να μου σπάσεις ένα πλευρό το καλοκαίρι.** "

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. You were distracted." Then her eyes widened. "Blimey. Did I just-" Luna huffed. "No wonder you're in Slytherin."

"I didn't do anything!"

Ginny snickered. Lucas noticed that she was making a daisy crown. Ginny placed it on Luna's head; then backed up, pretending to trip and fall on her back.

Luna turned to look at Ginny. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." A big smirk played across Ginny's features. "I did that on purpose. It's fun."

"Fun," Luna repeated. She followed Ginny's example and fell. "It's _so_ fun!"

Lucas shook his head in exasperation. "Ginny, I don't think she noticed the daisies."

"What?" Luna swiped at her head, knocking the daisy crown onto the ground. "Oh. That's pretty. How did you make one?"

Ginny launched into an explanation on how to make a daisy crown. Within minutes, Luna and Ginny were making daisy crowns. 

Lucas stood up. "Well, I'm gonna go now, since you don't need me. Have fun!" He ran off towards the castle, but Luna blocked him.

"Hold on. Can I ask you something?"

"You just did," he pointed out.

Luna rolled her eyes. "I wanted to ask how you pulled off burning your food without anybody noticing."

"Oh. That. I go to the kitchen to burn them. I'll show it to you later."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The last thing that Lucas would ever expect was Marcus Flint marching towards with him in the Slytherin common room, telling him to come with him to the Quidditch Pitch.

"Okay," Lucas said, once they got to the Quidditch Pitch. "Spill. What do you want with me?"

Flint smirked. "You really shouldn't take that tone with your Quidditch Captain."

The words caught Lucas by surprise. "Wha- Quidditch Captain? You're not- I never went to try-outs! And I definitely have no interest in playing Quidditch!"

Flint gave him a look. "Your father donated Nimbus 2001s to our entire Quidditch team. Therefore, you are accepted as a Seeker." With that, he turned around and headed back towards the castle.

"Lucius Malfoy," Lucas muttered under his breath. " **βάλλ' εἰς κόρακας. Εσύ Αχθος αρούρης.** " He rolled his eyes. "Oh who am I kidding? **Λούσιους Μαλφόι,** **ορκίζομαι σε όλους τους θεούς, θα σε κάνω να εύχεσαι να μην είχες γεννηθεί ποτέ!** "

He huffed and turned around, just as Neville made his way over to him.

"Hello, Draco. Are you alright, mate?"

"Yeah." Lucas resisted the urge to continue to holler at the top of his lungs. "Just frustrated."

"I heard you yelling." Neville looked at him oddly. "Any other hidden talents? Besides combat and Greek, I mean."

"Erm..." Lucas debated on what would be safe to tell Neville. Languages he could tell Neville and maybe his pickpocketing skills. "I know a bit of French," he admitted. "A cousin taught me." That was true. Silena had taught him French as thanks for tipping her off on who pulled the Golden Mango prank on her and her half-siblings. "And, um, I'm good at pickpocketing."

That was all it took to make Neville nervous. In all honesty, if Lucas had known that would set Neville off, he would've never mentioned it. Neville scared/became nervous way too easily. What was so terrifying about being good at pickpocketing?

"Why are you so nervous? It's not as if I'm a mass murderer," Lucas joked, trying to calm Neville down.

Neville shrugged nervously if that was even possible. "Dunno," he said. "Maybe because stealing is bad?"

Lucas stared at him. "Okay," he said in an indignant tone, "first of all, it's not stealing, it's pickpocketing. Second of all, I'm a kleptomaniac. It runs in the family. Not that I care, but..." Lucas trailed off, realizing that he let slip about his demigod heritage. Sure, it wasn't obvious, but he still let slip. He didn't think the Malfoys were thieves. Anybody with an ounce of logic would know that the Malfoys wouldn't steal. They were a very rich family.

Luckily for him, Neville didn't pick up on it. 

"Okay. Well, um, I-I'm just gonna go," Neville stuttered. He was obviously still nervous. "Give you some space and all that." With that, Neville turned and headed back towards the castle, occasionally tripping over tufts of grass. 

Lucas snorted. How Neville was so clumsy, he would never know. If Neville was a demigod, Lucas wouldn't think he was a child of Hermes. Demeter, maybe, with his affinity for Herbology. Lucas admired him for that. There wasn't anything Neville didn't know when it came to Herbology. Lucas on the other hand tended to kill every plant he came across (by accident, of course).

Then Lucas recalled why he was yelling in the first place and was sorely tempted to continue. Instead, he settled on muttering angrily under his breath as he headed back towards the castle.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Come Saturday morning, Lucas was following the rest of his Quidditch team to the Quidditch Pitch. Lucas was still mad- wait, no. Lucas was still _furious_ at Lucius. There was nothing he would like more than to go to Malfoy Manor and beat Lucius senseless. Unfortunately, he wasn't supposed to harm Mortals. So, Lucas restrained himself, brooding silently instead.

"Flint!" A loud voice startled Lucas out of his thoughts. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

It was from Oliver Wood. He was a well built and burly sixth year, who was obsessed with Quidditch, according to Fred and George. They also claimed that Wood breathed, ate, and slept Quidditch. Lucas had never believed them, until now. Looking at the maniacal gleam in Wood's eyes, Lucas could believe them.

"Plenty of room for all of us, Wood," Flint replied. 

"But I booked it! I booked the pitch!" Wood's face was red from rage. The hand that he had clenched on his broomstick was very white.

"Ah," Flint said, with a look of cunningness on his face, "but I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. _I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch Pitch owing to the need to train their own Seeker._ "

That distracted Wood. "You've got a new Seeker? Who?"

Miles Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, shoved Lucas forward. Lucas wanted to not move just to spite everyone, but he still went forward, muttering a Greek curse under his breath. 

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" Wood looked at Lucas in distaste, which Lucas was completely fine with. It wasn't Lucas himself that Wood didn't like. It could be either the name Malfoy or the fact that he was on the opposing team. Probably the latter.

The whole Slytherin team smiled widely and Lucas rolled his eyes. _Oh great. Here it comes_. 

"Funny you should mention Draco's father, Wood," Flint said. "Let me show you his generous gift to the Slytherin team."

Lucas really didn't like what Lucius did. If he wanted to play Quidditch, he would've won the position fairly. He wouldn't want to bribe his way in. But, he had to admit that the Nimbus 2001 was a very good broom. The highly polished, brand-new handles, with fine gold lettering that spelt "Nimbus 2001" gleamed in the early morning sun.

"The latest model. Only came out last month." Flint nonchalantly flicked a speck of dirt off of his broomstick's handle, which Lucas found unnecessary. "I believe it outstrips the old 2000 series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps," he smiled gloatingly at Fred and George, who both had Cleansweep Fives, "sweeps the board with them."

None of the Gryffindors said anything, so Lucas muttered a "Very funny" under his breath for them.

"Oh look," Flint said. "A pitch invasion."

Hermione and Ron were stalking over to see what was going on. 

"What's going on?" Ron asked Harry, ignoring the Slytherins. "Why aren't you playing? And what is _he_ doing here?"

Ron glared at Lucas, taking in his Quidditch robes. 

"Flint's made me their new Seeker." Lucas practically spat the words out. "Because my _father_ bribed him into it."

"I do not take bribes," Flint protested.

"Oh yes, you would, you **ψεύτη μπάσταρδε** ," Lucas muttered under his breath.

Hermione glanced at Lucas strangely out of the corner of her eye. She didn't understand any of the Ancient Greek coming out of Lucas's mouth, but that didn't mean that she was deaf. Most of the Ancient Greek that came out of his mouth sounded particularly insulting, and she didn't think this time was any different.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to _buy_ their way in," she finally said. "They got on with _pure talent._ "

"No one asked _your_ opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," Bletchley snarled.

The effect was immediate. Flint had to jump in front of Bletchley to prevent the twins from jumping on him; Alicia shrieked "How dare you!"; Ron pulled out his wand and pointed it at Bletchley; Lucas gave Bletchley a very fierce glare that he was proud to say Bletchley had cowered from.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang and a jet of green light shot out of the handle of Ron's wand and hit him in the stomach, sending him back a few feet.

"Ron, Ron! Are you alright?" Hermione asked/squealed.

Ron opened his mouth to reply, but slugs tumbled out of his mouth.

Lucas grimaced. That was disgusting. He really didn't want to know how the curse works. Was it a type of conjuring spell? 

Lucas seemed to be the only Slytherin who didn't find this funny. Flint was holding onto his broomstick for support and Bletchley was on the ground, banging his fists against the ground. 

The Gryffindor team, however, were crowded around Ron, not doing anything. Lucas couldn't blame them. The curse certainly was nasty.

Lucas looked at the Slytherin team and back at the Gryffindors. Then he smirked as he pointed his wand at Bletchley and cast the same spell Ron did, just as Harry and Hermione dragged him off.

Nobody saw him cast the curse. Well, Fred and George caught on. After the Slytherin team stopped laughing and dragged Bletchley to the Hospital Wing. It was probably because he was grinning like an idiot.

"You didn't," Fred said after he realized what happened.

"I did." Lucas was still smiling. "I mean, that was a good curse. I couldn't resist." His smile faded and he turned to Wood. "I'd like to apologize for their pigheaded behaviour."

Wood seemed unimpressed. "Hmph."

"Apology accepted," Katie interjected. "Anyone who curses Slytherins is fine in my book. Er, bad Slytherins. Not all Slytherins have to live up to their house's reputation."

Lucas laughed. "I think the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Hufflepuff at first."

"You _should have_ been put in Hufflepuff," George mumbled. "You act like a Hufflepuff. Asides from the fact that your insults are very... creative."

"That's one way of putting it," Lucas agreed. "You should've heard me when Flint told me I was going to be on the Quidditch team."

Alicia stared at me quizzically.

"Just ask Neville," he replied hastily. "I should go before they find out I was the one who cursed Bletchley. Wouldn't want my reputation to be ruined."

Fred gaped at Lucas. "You have a reputation?"

"How could you do this to us?" George added. 

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Yes, I have a reputation. Surprised?"

"Very."

"Shut up."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucas couldn't quite believe that he had forgotten to IM Luke. He was probably the worst brother ever. He completely forgot last year, and Luke had to remind Lucas to call him this time. Which is how Lucas found himself in a bathroom, making a rainbow.

Lucas dug out a Drachma. "Oh, Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, accept my offering. Show me, Luke Castellan at Camp Half-Blood." He tossed the Drachma through the rainbow.

The rainbow shimmered and showed Luke's image. He wasn't much older- only by three years. Most people claimed that Lucas was a younger carbon copy of Luke. They both were tall and had an athletic, muscular build. They also had blue eyes, a sharp nose, and like all children of Hermes, a sneaky look. The only difference was that Luke had a very thick, deep scar that ran from the bottom of his eye to his chin. 

Personality-wise, they were very different. Both of them liked a good laugh, but Luke acted a lot like their dad, while Lucas was more like their mother. Luke was serious and sneaky, while Luke was more open and relaxed. 

Luke was practising in the Sword Fighting Arena alone. He slashed at the straw dummies, never stopping for more than a few seconds.

"Luke," Lucas called, hoping to surprise him. Luke spun around, nearly ending the Iris Message with his sword, before recognizing him and lowering his sword.

"Lucas!" Luke exclaimed, grinning. "How are you?"

"Good," Lucas replied. "Sorry that I took this long to Iris Message. Classes were a bit of a mess. I forgot a lot of it and uh, spent pretty much the entire catching up."

Luke laughed. "It's fine. Things get busy when you're on a quest." He narrowed his eyes. "Even if you're not being completely truthful about the quest."

"I-I wasn't-"

He cut Lucas off. "I know you you're lying. That was one of the worst lies to ever come out of your mouth."

Lucas glared at him. "Oh, thanks!"

"It was more of the fact that you couldn't tell us most of the details," Luke admitted. "That rarely happens. And long-term quests weren't a thing before."

Lucas crossed his arms. "Okay. Fine. You win. But I can't tell you the details."

"Does it have anything to do with magic?" Luke asked innocently (which he should not be able to pull off, in Lucas's opinion).

Lucas nearly choked on air. "How do you know that?" he demanded.

Luke shrugged. "Kind of obvious. Hecate showed up to issue a quest and then you're not allowed to share details. I figured it had something to do with magic. Hecate is the Goddess of Magic."

"Okay. How exactly did you find out that Hecate was the one who issued the quest?"

"Annabeth told me," Luke replied in the casual tone that was slowly getting on Lucas's nerves.

"Βλάκας," Lucas muttered. Of course, Annabeth told him. Who else? Annabeth was the only person who knew other than Chiron. 

"Yeah," Luke agreed.

Lucas stared at him. "Oh, you wound me. Ouch. That hurt. What kind of brother are you?"

"The kind that kills everyone that spares so much as a glance towards you," Luke joked. 

Lucas made a noise of agreement. "You did. At least they were all monsters. I wouldn't want my older brother to be a murderer. You'd be a terrible role model."

"Technically, almost every demigod _is_ a murderer," Luke pointed out.

"Monsters don't count."

"It's murder in the eyes of the Mortals."

"That's because of the Mist."

"Stop contradicting everything I say."

"... Okay."

Luke laughed. "I miss you," he admitted.

"I miss you too." Lucas felt very awkward. "Um, I should go before a search party is launched."

"Even if you could hide from them easily?" Luke teased.

"Yeah. I mean, this is a school. And they have magic. And uh... a drachma can only last so long before Iris shuts the Iris Message down."

"Fair enough." Luke raised his hand to swipe through the Iris Message. "IM me again when you have the time."

"I will."

**Translations:**

Δεν σε εμπόδισε να μου σπάσεις ένα πλευρό το καλοκαίρι. (It didn't stop you from breaking one of my ribs in the Summer.)

βάλλ' εἰς κόρακας. Εσύ Αχθος αρούρης. (Go to the crows. You burden to the Earth.)

Λούσιους Μαλφόι, ορκίζομαι σε όλους τους θεούς, θα σε κάνω να εύχεσαι να μην είχες γεννηθεί ποτέ! (Lucius Malfoy, I swear to all the gods, I am going to make you wish you were never born!)

ψεύτη μπάσταρδε. (Lying bastard.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while. Sorry. Some parts just felt awkward. I hope this chapter was worth the wait. 
> 
> *McGonagall Loses Dumbledore in a crowd*  
> McGonagall: Slytherin wins the house cup!  
> Dumbledore: *Randomly appears* Twenty thousand points to Gryffindor!  
> McGonagall: *To herself* Found him.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20: Halloween**

Soon, October arrived, bringing a damp chill over the grounds and dumping buckets of rain onto the castle. Colds became very common throughout Hogwarts, especially with the Slytherins. But that was to be expected since they lived in the Dungeons. Seriously, what were the Founders thinking? 

Sometimes it was funny. Lucas remembered vividly the time he had to bully Theo into going to the Hospital Wing to get some Pepperup Potion and when he spiked Zabini's potion to make him breathe fire for a few minutes. It wasn't harmful, and Zabini still recovered from his cold. 

Every time the Slytherin Team had a practice, Lucas would "let slip" of the date and time to the twins. He didn't think it mattered- even without anyone spying on the Slytherin Team, they were terrible. They counted on cheating, which wasn't a very good technique. The sheer number of fouls in every game the Slytherins played was insane. 

As Lucas made his way into the castle after he came back from a hike in the Forbidden Forest, he bumped into Ginny.

"What are you doing here?" Ginny asked.

"Er, well, I may have snuck into the Forbidden Forest for a bit of a hike," Lucas admitted.

Her eyes widened. "You what?" she shrieked.

Lucas winced, then tensed as he heard a distance meow. "We should probably go," he said, dragging Ginny down the hall and into an abandoned classroom.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Right, it's your first year here," he muttered to himself. "That was Mrs. Norris. She's Filch's cat. Filch hates all students. If he catches you breaking a rule..."

"Got it." She took a deep breath. "So, what were you doing in the Forbidden Forest?"

"Told you, I was taking a hike." Lucas shrugged. "I'm ADHD."

"Oh, don't remind me," Ginny sighed. "It was bad enough with Fred and George. Mum was going crazy. I think she was glad when they finally went here."

"I can imagine," he replied. Turns out the twins weren't so different from the Stolls. "I have these friends, and they are an absolute _pain_ to manage."

"What are their names?" Ginny asked.

"Travis and Connor Stoll," he said automatically. He smirked. "Their last name fits them since they're both pickpocketers."

"Stole... as in the past tense of steal?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah. But it's written as s-t-o-l-l."

"Pretty funny."

Lucas nodded. "What did you do in the Summer?"

"Now? You're asking me now?"

"Yes."

She huffed. "It was bland for the most part. Then, near the end..." Ginny suddenly blushed fiercely. " _Harry Potter_ appeared. In the middle of the night!"

Lucas stared at her. "Do you have a crush on him?"

"What?" Ginny spluttered, going even redder. "I-"

"So you do have a crush on him," Lucas interrupted. 

"And if I do?" Ginny asked him, crossing her arms. "What's wrong with that?"

"It might become an obsession," he warned her. "At least think of him as a person, instead of the Boy-Who-Lived."

She huffed. "Alright."

"We could still have some fun with him," Lucas offered. "I heard your brother talking to Potter about a Harry Potter fan club."

Ginny grinned. "You want us to start one?" she asked.

"Not really." He grinned in return. "I was thinking that _you_ start one. I'm sure Creevey would be eager to help."

There was a sudden gleam in Ginny's eyes that sent a shudder down Lucas's spine, and he made a mental note not to anger Ginny. He didn't want to find out what would happen.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"You've been reading non-stop," Theo complained. "Live a little!"

Lucas snorted. "What is your definition of 'live a little?'"

"Well, it'll be Halloween soon," Pansy pointed out.

"And we all know you love to pull pranks," Daphne added. "I expect someone to be scared to half-death one of these days."

Lucas grinned. "Oh, someone _has_ been scared to death." He paused. "Not... actual death. Didn't you hear about the Harry Potter fan club?"

Theo stared at him. "That was you?"

"Well, I gave Ginny the idea," Lucas replied. "I didn't actually start it."

"I might just help," Pansy said. "Maybe they could sell action figures of Potter."

"That dances ballet?" Lucas suggested.

Pansy closed her eyes briefly as if she was trying to imagine a small figure of Potter come to life and do pirouettes and twirls. She snickered. 

"Complete with a leotard and tutu," she added.

Lucas grinned as he found a spell in his Transfiguration textbook.

"I found a spell," he mentioned casually, looking up at them. "Piertotum Locomotor. Used to bring inanimate objects to life."

"Does it say anything on the animation part?" Daphne asked, joining in.

Lucas frowned as he read the passage. "Great," he muttered. "Just great."

"What?" Theo asked.

"The animation follows the wand's movement," he explained. "We'd need the wand to be next to the figure constantly."

"Couldn't we tweak the spell a bit?" Theo asked.

"Yeah." Lucas nodded. "I'll ask Fred and George. They have experience in tweaking spells. They do it all the time for their pranks."

"Maybe the figure could be dancing to Swan Lake," Daphne mused, and there was a thump as Lucas failed to grab his textbook because he was too busy laughing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Halloween rolled around, everyone was very excited; anticipating the Halloween feast. The Great Hall was decorated with live bats just like the previous year, and Hagrid's large pumpkins had been carved into lanterns that could probably fit a young cyclops. There was also a rumour going around that Dumbledore had hired several dancing skeletons for entertainment purposes.

"This year's decorations are better than last year," Lucas noted as they sat down at the Slytherin table.

Theo snorted. " _Magic_ keeps getting better. Did you hear about that potion? It was in the Daily Prophet."

"You mean the one that made the drinker fly for a few minutes?" Pansy asked. "It was the one made by Blossom Degrasse, right?"

"Yeah," Theo said. "I mean, a few minutes isn't impressive-"

"The fact that she managed to create a potion that enabled flight is impressive," Lucas cut in.

"It's not really impressive when the Muggles have done it," Theo retorted.

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Because you don't use science."

"How _do_ they make the aeroplanes fly?" Pansy asked.

"The four forces of flight," Lucas and Daphne said at the same time.

"Jinx," Lucas muttered.

"What?" Theo asked.

"Nothing." Lucas turned to Daphne. "You want to explain, or should I?"

"I'll do it." Daphne paused for a moment, before elaborating. "There are four forces of flight. Think of it like this: they are like rules. To achieve flight, you must have these four forces. The first is lift. This is the force that keeps an aeroplane or anything that flies up. The second is weight, the opposite of lift. Weight is the force that pulls the plane down. It's also tied into gravity, which keeps us on the ground. The third force is thrust. This enables a plane or bird to go forwards, and the final force is drag. Drag is responsible for slowing an aeroplane down."

Theo whistled. "Pretty impressive for Muggles. I mean, they don't have magic."

"Are Muggles really that far behind?" Lucas asked him. "Sure, they don't have magic, but they're pretty advanced. They don't need candles or parchment. Or quills. They use lights, paper; pens and pencils."

"... Fair enough."

They moved onto other topics, and before long, the food appeared on the tables. It was the same as last year- not that Lucas minded. The food was good enough. There were all types of meat and dishes, though they were all British food. Lucas wouldn't have said no to a burger and some fries.

At the end of the Halloween feast, everyone got up to leave, but instead of going to their respective dormitories, a crowd of people began to head down a corridor. 

"What do you think they're doing?" Lucas asked no one in particular.

"Maybe something's happening over there," Pansy suggested. "Let's go check it out."

"Sure."

The four of them (Lucas, Theo, Pansy, and Daphne) headed into the corridor, which was a dead end. When they reached the group of people, Lucas sucked in a breath and stopped.

On the wall ahead, illuminated by the torches were foot-high words painted between two large windows. It read:

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.  
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the very long wait. I got hit with Writer's Block and my brain just shut down. Which, I suppose, is the whole point of Writer's Block.
> 
> So, I have a question for y'all. I want to know what you think. Why didn't Harry take Felix Felicis, and then go kill Voldemort?


End file.
